Daylight
by Addie Logan
Summary: When the Powers that Be decide to reward a vampire with a soul, Buffy finds herself forced to realize that maybe things aren't what she always thought they were… Spuffy Now Complete!
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ or _Angel_. This story is not for profit. "Daylight" is Alison Krauss and Union Station, from the album _New Favorite_. Usually, this is where I'd say something witty about not suing me or whatnot, but I'm out of clever things to say at the moment…

Rating: R

Summary: When the Powers that Be decide to "reward" a vampire with a soul, Buffy finds herself forced to realize that maybe things aren't what she always thought they were… (Spike/Buffy)

Spoilers: This picks up directly after "Not Fade Away," so everything on both shows is fair game here.

Author's Note: First off, I'd like to make it clear that I'm not one for character "bashing." Writing negative portrayals of a character simply because I don't like them isn't my style, seeing as it tends to lead to bad characterization and weak plots. However, in this fic I do make several of what I feel to be justified points concerning the negative aspects of Angel's character. While I respect that everyone has their own opinion and will certainly listen to your point of view should you feel the need to write me an email about how Buffy and Angel have the truest love **_ever_**, and I'm just a deluded psycho who's been blinded by the shininess of Spike's hair, I'd prefer not to. So, if you're a rabid B/A shipper (which if you're at most of the sites where I post you're probably not, but I just want to cover my bases), or even just such a big fan of Angel that you feel he can do no wrong, I suggest navigating your browser away from this page.

Also, you may notice some similarities to my earlier fic "After the End Has Come and Gone." The two stories aren't identical by any means, but I deal with some of the same issues in this fic as I did in that one. "After the End…" was the first Buffy fic I began, and there were several key episodes I had not seen when I started it. I feel that as my knowledge of the show and the characters expanded, that fic sort of fell apart. I had a few things planned that I wanted to do with it, but by then end it was such a mess that I just concluded and was done with it. Now I feel like I can better accomplish what I really meant to do with that story, and I'm attempting to try again from a different angle here. So yes, some minor things are the same, but it will in no means be the same story. It follows a different plot, and my approach to many of these issues will be different.

I'd also like to thank Niamh for the opportunity to share rants and plot bunnies with her. wink I don't think I ever would've had my thoughts sorted out enough to write this fic otherwise.

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is the best invention since Domino's cheesy bread. (I love that stuff…) Leaving it makes me a happy little author who wants to write even more. Also, I allow archiving, but if you've never archived any of my stuff before, ask before hand. If you already have me on your site, then go ahead and add anything else you want.

* * *

**Daylight**

**By: Addie Logan**

* * *

****

**_Daylight falls  
And I'm lost in the big parade  
Hold my hand darling  
I'm afraid of the daylight _**

Shade is dark  
Cool and languid for life or long  
Safe in shadow, it's never as dark as the daylight  
As the daylight

When I was just knee high  
My momma told me never try to be  
Someone that I am not  
Yet over time I had forgot  
A wandering child, so lost at play  
He's found himself, but he can't find his way  
In the daylight, oh the daylight  
Oh daylight, oh daylight

Life is short  
And there's no turning back the time  
Fragrant meadows and rocks to climb  
In that daylight

In my mind  
There's a corner I need to turn  
Lessons left is a lesson learned  
In the daylight  
In the daylight

I miss the forest shade that took me there  
The promise I made can never leave the dark so dear  
Safe and soothing yet I fear  
As I recall and I reflect  
I see it's safer to connect to the daylight  
Oh the daylight  
Oh daylight, oh daylight

Daylight falls  
And I'm lost in the big parade  
Hold my hand darling, I'm afraid  
Of the daylight, of the day ...

* * *

"Let's go to work."

Spike stood as straight as he could, Angel's answer to his question about a plan barely registering as Spike prepared to fight what he suspected would be his last battle.

He wasn't afraid to dust. He'd been prepared for it in the final battle on the Hellmouth, and in a lot of ways, he still felt like that should've been his end. Everything since then hadn't felt like much of anything real anyway.

Spike took a deep breath, ignoring the fact that he didn't need it and the mixture of blood and rain on his face that made the act difficult. This was the end, and he was ready for it.

"So you need a little help with that dragon, or were you planning on going at it alone?"

Spike turned at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice. As he saw Buffy step from the shadows, leaning casually on the hilt of a sword, his emotions shifted from surprise to elation to fear. He wasn't planning on making it out of this, and he didn't want the same ending for her. He opened his mouth to speak, to urge her to sit this one out, but Angel spoke first.

"Buffy? Why are you here? This isn't…"

"If you finish that sentence with 'your fight,' I swear I'm staking you. And I'm here because one of Giles's seers said you had some trouble brewing in good ol' LA."

"And you just decided to rush down here on your own and take on the armies of Hell?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. It was a gesture Spike had seen her do a thousand times, but this time he noticed something different. She had a calm self-assuredness to her, one that she'd grasped for in the past but had never quite achieved. He realized that some time in the past year—away from him—she'd grown up.

"Not alone," Buffy informed Angel. "I called in the cavalry."

It was then that Spike noticed the demons weren't advancing on them at quite the speed they had been before. Many of them had begun to scatter, some turning around to face an opponent behind them.

"Brought my army," Buffy said. "Think it might come in handy?"

"Will it ever," Gunn replied. He winced, clutching his stomach wound.

"You," Buffy said, pointing to Illyria, "take him back out this alley here. There's a few healers not far. They can help him."

Illyria stared at the Slayer for a moment. "I wish to remain here and do violence."

"That's great. Help him first. I'm sure there will be plenty of violence left for you when you get back."

Illyria looked back at the smaller band of demons not distracted by the Slayers that had regrouped and were starting to advance on them again. She then surprised Spike by doing as Buffy had said, helping Gunn down towards where Buffy had indicated there would be someone to help him. Angel gaped as Buffy came to stand between the two vampires, her sword now raised.

"What?" Buffy asked at Angel's wary expression.

"She's a hellgod. She normally doesn't so what people say like that."

"Yeah, well, a hellgod's nothing I haven't dealt with before," Buffy replied. "Hi, Spike. Remind me to kick your ass when all this is over." With that, Buffy leapt into battle.

Angel and Spike shared a brief glance before joining her.

* * *

As it grew dark only moments after the sun had begun to rise, Angel frowned, his trademark brooding becoming almost palpable. Spike leaned against the wall of the alley they'd ducked into to protect themselves from those few moments of sunlight. "What's the matter this time, Peaches? Y'know, despite the fact that you entered into an unholy pact that has brought Hell down on our heads?" Spike wiped blood from his forehead, keeping it from running down into his eyes. "Were you hoping to burst into flames?"

"The last time the sun darkened like this, things got really ugly, really fast," Angel replied.

"Well, things are already ugly. And it's just Willow working a little mojo so we're not stuck out in the daylight. As long as she doesn't get all veiny we should be fine. Well, aside from the fact that those hoards of demons still want to kill us."

"Would you stop that? Don't you think I _know_ I screwed up this time? One of my best friends is dead. I don't need your snide comments to remind me what I've unleashed."

Spike blinked. "Not like you to admit when you're wrong."

"Yeah, well, the mess outside this alley is sort of rubbing it in my face." Angel stared down at the small river of watery blood running in front of him. "I should've listened to Cordelia. She got a reprieve from death to warn me, and I didn't listen. I thought I did, but…"

"Yeah, well, coulda, shoulda, woulda, mate. It's dark again now, and we have a battle to fight."

Angel nodded, raising his sword again.

* * *

Three dark days passed before the battle was over. Spike stood, surveying the carnage. The demons had been defeated, but Slayers had fallen as well. It was all a bloody mess.

In the one hundred and twenty four years that he'd been a vampire, Spike had never seen anything quite like this. It had gone beyond any fight he'd ever fought, more than he should've been able to handle with just fists and fangs.

He was still surprised he hadn't ended up as nothing more than dust washing into a gutter.

"You know, I really didn't appreciate having to find out you weren't dead from some psychic predicting doom in Los Angeles."

Spike didn't look at Buffy as she walked up beside him. "Things have been complicated."

"Yeah, I bet. You know, I thought maybe you were different than all the others, but then you go and abandon me the first chance you get, too. I should've known all that stuff you said before about me being 'the one' didn't really mean anything."

"Buffy, it meant…" Spike sighed. "This really isn't the time. There's…well, there's bodies everywhere for starters."

"Willow and some of the other witches are taking care of the demon bodies."

"And the girls?"

"The Slayers are being identified so their bodies can be sent home." Spike heard her draw in a shuddering breath. "You were planning on dying here, weren't you."

"Would've if you hadn't showed up. No way we could've taken all of them on by ourselves and lived to tell about it."

"You were going to die, and you weren't going to say good-bye?"

Part of Spike wanted to turn around, grab Buffy and beg her to forgive him. Another part of him didn't want to go there again, was too tired to start over with her in something that he knew could only end badly. It was the second part that won out. "We said our good-byes, Buffy."

"Did we?"

"Yeah."

Buffy was keenly aware of the fact that he hadn't looked at her once since she'd walked up. "Spike, I'm not saying that you should've come back to me in a relationship sort of sense. I'm not even saying you had to be where I was. If you wanted to stay in LA and help Angel, fine. But I thought you were gone. As in permanently. I _mourned_ you, and you were here the whole time, doing perfectly fine. You could've at least had the decency to let me know that someone I care about wasn't dead."

"Yeah, mourning your way right into the arms of the Immortal from what I've heard."

For a moment, Buffy was speechless. Finally, she snapped, "That is not the issue—or any of your business."

"I almost sought you out. I was incorporeal for a while, but as soon as I was solid again, I was going to find you. But what could I say after how we ended things? How could I top an exit like that?"

"How could you…? Dammit, Spike, you showing up on my doorstep and saying 'hi' would've topped that exit! God, you can be so dense sometimes, you know that? Just seeing you, looking at you and knowing you were real—that would've topped any exit." Buffy laughed humorlessly. "You're all the same. You, Angel, even Riley. All about the big gestures. Never thinking about how those left behind will deal with the fallout of your grand fucking _exits_."

"Don't compare me to them…"

"Then don't act like them! And it wasn't just me, Spike. Other people missed you, too."

"Yeah, like who? None of your bloody Scoobies ever gave a damn about me."

"Dawn did. Do you have any idea how many tears she's cried for you? How guilty she feels for not patching things up with you before you 'died?' Or how about just what losing someone else she loved did to her?"

Spike looked at her for the first time then. "Buffy, I didn't…"

"No, you didn't. I have a mess to help clean up." Buffy turned, ignoring Spike as he called out her name. But when she heard the thump of a body hitting the pavement, she turned. Spike was lying in a heap.

Buffy ran over to him, shaking him. "Spike! Come on, wake up. You're not all dusty, so I know you're not any deader…" Buffy tried to pull him to his feet, only to have him slump against her. She reached up to steady him, her hand grazing over his chest.

Suddenly, Buffy froze. She moved her hand back down slowly, stopping over his heart. Her eyes widened as her suspicion was confirmed.

It was beating.

* * *

How's this one so far? Leave me a review and let me know if it's worth continuing. 


	2. Chapter Two

Spike opened his eyes slowly, his surroundings blurry and unfamiliar. "What…where…"

"Shh…Don't try to talk," a voice told him. "Just rest some more."

Spike nodded, his eyes closing again. It was good advice, and furthermore, it was advice he didn't think he was physically capable of ignoring at the moment.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he gained consciousness again, but this time things were clearer. He was in a bed, in a hospital. The room was silent aside from the steady beep of the heart monitor.

_Wait a bloody minute_… Spike glanced to the side, staring at the device he was hooked up to. He raised his hand, verifying that that was indeed where the wire was connected. He stared at the tiny digital heart blinking on the monitor, at the lines that were anything but flat.

"Yeah, that's yours."

Spike looked sharply, seeing Buffy sitting in a chair beside his bed. "I've got a heartbeat?"

"Among other things. You're, well, as far as we can tell you're alive."

Spike frowned. "How did that happen?"

"I don't know. We were…talking…and then you just hit the ground. When I went to see if you were all right, your heart was beating. We tried to wake you up, but we couldn't. The healers had their hands full with the injured Slayers, so we brought you to the hospital just to have you checked out."

"We?"

"Angel's in the waiting room."

Spike rolled his eyes. "I bet he's so worried for my well-being."

"Yeah, well, whether he is or not, I am." Buffy reached up, placing her hand on Spike's forehead. "You're warm. And you look a little flushed. I'm going to get the doctor to come take a look at you."

"I don't need a doctor," Spike muttered. "You're probably just so used to me being cold and pale that I _seem_ warm and flushed."

"Nice try. I'll be right back."

Buffy ignored Spike's further protests as she walked out of the room towards the nurses' station. Angel approached her almost as soon as she was in his line of sight. "I need to talk to the nurses," she said, trying to push past him.

"Tell me how Spike's doing first."

"He's awake, but I think he has a fever. I need to get a doctor."

"A fever, huh? So he's still…"

"Alive. Yes. Now please, get out of my way."

Angel didn't move. "I don't like this, Buffy. It's clearly mystical."

"Mystical? I hadn't thought of that! Thank you so much Angel for telling me that a vampire suddenly coming back to life is mystical. What would I do without you?" Buffy hissed.

"This isn't a time for Slayer sarcasm."

"No, it's time for you to get out of my way before I knock you out."

"Still automatically resorting to violence and threats, I see."

Buffy threw her arms up in the air. "God, you are completely unbelievable sometimes!"

"Is there a problem?"

Buffy turned to the nurse who had approached them in order to head off any disturbance in the hospital waiting room. "No. I just came out to tell someone that the patient in room 212 is awake."

The nurse flipped a page on the clipboard she was holding. "212. Summers, William. I'll go find a doctor to take a look at him."

"Thank you," Buffy replied. As the nurse walked away, Buffy turned to go back into Spike's room when Angel grabbed her arm. "You checked him in under your name?"

"Yeah. What did you expect me to tell them his full name was, William T. Bloody? Besides, they tend to leave you out of the loop if you're not a relative."

"So you told them what, you're his sister?"

"Wife, actually."

"What!"

"Angel, lower your voice. This is a hospital, not a stadium. Pretending to be his sister after, well, everything we've, um, _shared _would just be ookie, and I wanted enough leeway to be able to stay with him, okay?"

"No, it's not okay. You told people you were married to Spike. How could you do that?"

"Oh god Angel, grow up." With that, Buffy snatched her arm away from him and went back into Spike's room, leaving a fuming vampire behind.

* * *

"Your husband is going to be just fine, Ms. Summers," the doctor told Buffy as they discussed the tests they'd run on the now-conscious Spike. "We can't find any traces of any sort of physical damage to have caused his attack, neurological or otherwise. We'd like to keep him here one more night for observation, but barring any unforeseen complications, he should be fine to check out in the morning."

Buffy smiled. "Thank you. Can I go in and see him now?"

"Of course."

Buffy went into Spike's room, finding him sitting up in the bed, picking at a tray of hospital food. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm thinking I must be human, because this stuff has a lot of taste to it. Sadly, it's bad taste. Also feel like a soddin' pin cushion with all those tests. That one nurse out there—the brunette with the grip o' steel—so would've bitten her if I still had fangs. Bint. And what's with everyone calling me 'Mr. Summers'—and referring to you as my wife?"

Buffy blushed, looking down at the floor. "I sort of told them we were married. Just, you know, so I could stay in here with you."

"Uh huh. When am I getting out?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Bloody hell. I hate this place. Well, I guess if I have to be here, at least I have the telly. Be a dear and hand me the remote? It's over there on that dresser."

Buffy nodded, getting the remote. After she'd handed it to him, she sat back in the chair she'd been in when Spike had woken up. The only sounds in the room for a while were the heart monitor and the murmur of the television until Spike spoke again. "You hungry, Buffy? Most of this is crap, but the jell-o is almost tolerable."

"No, I'm all right. I ate while they were running those tests on you."

Spike nodded. "Bit likes jell-o," he said after a moment.

"Yeah, she does."

"I've missed her, you know. You said that I wasn't thinking about her, but I was. I just…well, I figured she didn't care what happened to me after…after what I did to you."

"Spike, about that."

"Oooh, look. _Gilligan's__ Island_. Wonder what those wacky castaways are up to this week."

Buffy rolled her eyes, knowing full well that Spike didn't give a damn about _Gilligan's__ Island_. "Fine. If you don't want to talk about things, we won't."

Spike sighed. "It's not… I just… My head hurts, all right?"

"All right. But I do want you to know that I don't hold anything that happened in Sunnydale against you."

"That mean you hold other things against me?"

"Still less than thrilled with you for not even calling me."

"So is your oh-so-cheery ex still brooding up the hallway, or did he storm off yet?"

"Just so you know, I'm only letting you change the subject because you're in the hospital. And Angel left. He had some things to see to."

"Is he out of job now that Wolfram and Hart is rubble? I heard about a bloke selling his forehead on e-Bay as advertising space. I'm sure Angel could make a pretty penny that way."

Buffy rolled her eyes again. "You're incorrigible, you know that don't you? And he's talking about starting back up Angel Investigations. He kept the Hyperion, so all he'll have to do is move back in."

"How bloody convenient."

"So you need anything?" Buffy asked. "Want me to take that tray?"

"Would you? This stuff even _smells_ bad."

Buffy took the tray, putting it on a small table by the chair. "Better?"

"Yeah."

"I could go out and get you something else if you want. Maybe find a place around here with Buffalo wings?"

"Thanks, pet, but I'm all right. Stomach's sort of flippy anyway." Buffy suddenly grinned, and Spike raised an eyebrow. "What, happy to hear that I'm still feeling a bit ill?"

"No, it's not that at all. It's just, well, you called me 'pet.'"

"Yeah, so? Not like I've never done that before."

"I know it's just, well, that's the first time you've called me any of your pet names since I showed up in LA. I guess I missed hearing them."

"What, The Immortal doesn't have any names for you? No Cuddle Cakes or Honey Bunny? Pookie, maybe?"

"Stop it," Buffy said, although she was smiling a little. "And I didn't mean I missed being called pet names in general, just, well, that I missed yours."

"Thought you hated mine. They made you chop off all your hair."

"Please! I didn't do that 'cause of you. Ego much?"

"Denial much?" Spike replied, mimicking her accent. "You go and hack off all your hair right after I tell you how much I love it and say I'm going to start calling you Goldilocks? That's not a coincidence, luv."

"For your information, I had been considering a new look for quite sometime."

"Uh huh. Sure."

"I had!"

"So which one is it?"

"Which one is what?"

"Delusional or pathological liar."

"You know, I'm starting to think my whole resolution to be nice to you while you're in the hospital."

"This is you being nice?"

"Spike!"

Spike chuckled. "All right, all right. I'll let you live in your fantasy land."

Buffy gave him a triumphant smirk. "Thank you." After a couple of minutes of quiet between the two, Buffy said, "Giles is coming over from England tomorrow. He wants to see if he can figure out why you're suddenly among the living."

"Great. I get to be the Rupert's lab rat. All my dreams have come true."

"We do need to know what's going on, Spike. Vampires don't just suddenly become humans."

"I know why I did, pet. Shanshu Prophecy."

"Shana-whata?"

"Shanshu. It's a prophecy that said a vampire with a soul was going to become human. Ask Angel about it. Wanker figured it was his. Guess not so much."

"So you think this prophecy made you human?"

"Well, I don't think the prophecy _made_ me human exactly, but it has to be connected."

"Even if it is because of this prophecy thing, there still has to be a reason. Something _had_ to cause you to become human, Spike. Vampires don't just randomly develop heartbeats."

Spike shrugged. "Angel seemed to think it was some sort of reward. Guess I won the lottery. Not too hard when only two folks are holding tickets and one of 'em is a complete and total wanker." He yawned. "I know I shouldn't be because I was out for most of the day, but I'm knackered. Mind letting me get some shut-eye, Slayer?"

"No, go right ahead. I'm going to go for a walk, stretch my legs."

"Going to call Angel and ask him about the Shanshu?"

Buffy tisked. "No." She helped him turn off the television and lower his bed. "Get some rest, and we'll talk more later, okay?"

"Okay. Night, Buffy."

"Night, Spike."

Buffy walked out of his room and straight to the payphone. She put in her money and dialed Angel's number at the Hyperion.

"Hello?"

"Angel, it's Buffy."

"Hey. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to ask you about something Spike was talking about."

"It didn't have anything to do with a werewolf did it?"

"Huh? No. It was about some prophecy. Um, Shine Shoe?"

"Shanshu."

"Yeah, that's the one. He said you'd know about it."

"It talked about a vampire with a soul becoming human after an apocalyptic battle. But it was really unclear, and the texts have been tampered with in the past. I wouldn't put much stock in it."

"Yeah, well, there's a vampire with a soul turned human in a hospital room right now that makes me think otherwise."

"Buffy, this is Spike we're talking about here. If this Shanshu thing really did mean something, you don't think _he'd_ be worthy of it? Come on."

"Actually, Angel, I do. I watched Spike change, and I know what kind of person he's become."

"Look, whatever made Spike human, it was not divine intervention, okay? It's something bad."

"How do you know that?"

"Because it has to be! Look, I have a lot to deal with right now. We'll discuss this later, when Spike's out of the hospital, and we can really sort everything out."

"Fine. Good bye, Angel."

"Bye Buffy."

Buffy hung up the phone and then took the walk she'd told Spike she was going on.

* * *

Like it or hate it, please leave me a review and let me know what you think. 


	3. Chapter Three

Buffy sat in the hospital room, watching Spike as he slept. The rise and fall of his chest was steady—not the sporadic shadow of humanity his breathing patterns had been in the past. The heart monitor continued its steady rhythm, the tiny sound seeming to echo in the silent room.

_In…Out…In…Out…_

_Beep…Beep…_

Buffy's eyes grew slowly wider, an almost frightened look on her face as the reality of the situation began to settle on her. Spike was alive—_human_. He was everything she'd always told herself—and him—that he could never be, no longer what would prevent them from every having anything real.

But what they'd had before had been real—and not just for him, as she'd tried to claim once. She'd realized that long before she'd been ready to admit it. She'd meant those last three words she'd said to him more than she'd ever meant anything in her life, whether he believed them or not.

And now? So much had happened since then. She wasn't the same girl who had defended the Hellmouth for seven years. She was someone new, someone changed.

And so was Spike.

Buffy frowned as she reached out, taking hold of his warm hand as he slept.

* * *

Angel stood amongst the wreckage of his room, his chest heaving with angry, unneeded breaths. He wished he'd staked Spike when Drusilla had first brought him home. He'd done it before to the plaything she'd made before. Why had he decided to let her keep this one, even after the other vampire had begun to grate on his nerves?

Now the bastard had everything that Angel knew should be his. Spike was human. He had Buffy. Angel's lip curled up in a sneer as he thought about Buffy presenting herself as Spike's wife. It made him sick to think that Spike had ever touched his soft, innocent Buffy. And how could she have cheapened what they had had by trying to substitute him—_her true love_—with just another cold body?

Angel sat down on the floor, his bed and chairs already destroyed by his own hand. Buffy had called asking him about the Shanshu… When Angel had signed it away, he'd convinced himself that it meant nothing. After everything that had happened since they'd first stumbled upon the prophecy, Angel had come to believe that it wasn't real. And even if it was, then it would be his destiny regardless. Nothing could take away his destiny, not even the Circle of the Black Thorn.

But Spike had. Spike, that bleached moron who had done nothing but be the bane of Angel's existence from the moment Drusilla had sunk her fangs into the boy's neck, had stolen what was his. His destiny, his girl—everything. He hung his head in his hands.

"You know, it's kind of hard for someone to take something that wasn't yours to begin with."

Angel glanced up suddenly, staring at the woman who appeared before him. "Cor…Cordelia?"

"Nice to know you remember me, what with all the drama." She looked around. "Love what you've done with the place. When your decorator was done, did he whip a little girl and her house to the Land of Oz by any chance?"

Angel continued to gape. "How are you….you're…"

"Dead? Yeah, you, too, buddy, so don't go pointing fingers. But it seems like the Powers that Be decided I needed to rejoin the world of the, well, mostly living. Something about your complete inability to function without me. I could've told them about _that_."

Angel stood, walking slowly to Cordelia. He stopped in front of her, reaching out with his hand and tentatively touching her face. When he confirmed she was real, he grabbed her, pressing her against him tightly.

"Um…not so dead I don't need to breathe", Cordelia squeaked. "Think maybe you could cut down on the vampire-strength squeezing?"

Angel pulled away, his hands still resting on her arms. "I'm sorry, I'm just…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Cordelia pulled back from him. "I just want to state right now that I am none-too-pleased with you. I was getting along quite well in the Higher Realms this time, until _someone_ had to go and completely ignore my warning."

"But I didn't," Angel said. "I re-found my focus. I got back on the mission."

Cordelia's expression turned sad, wistful. "No, you didn't."

"I did! I…"

Cordelia reached out, stroking his cheek. "I always knew these obsessions of yours would get you in trouble, Angel. They make you so blind, make it so you can't see anything around you. Sometimes you just have to let go. You have to learn what you can have, and what you can't."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. Fred…Wes…they weren't supposed to die."

"But they did. Your obsession with Wolfram and Hart, it overshadowed everything. I thought…I thought you'd learn, but you didn't. You let it destroy everything."

"Can I…can I fix it"

"Maybe. I don't know. But you're going to have to let go, Angel. You're going to have to learn to do that."

"I can. You'll…you'll help me, won't you?"

Cordelia smiled, taking his hand. She'd never seen Angel this vulnerable, and she wanted nothing more than to offer him the comfort she knew she couldn't really give him. "Of course I will. It's why I'm here now."

Angel let go of her hand and sunk back down to the floor. Cordelia sat beside him, her arm wrapped around his shoulder. They sat in silence for a long while before Angel finally spoke. "I killed them. I killed Wes and Fred."

"They made the choice to join Wolfram and Hart, too. They knew the dangers."

Angel shook his head. "They were following me. They trusted me, and I let them down." He turned to Cordelia then, resting his head against her shoulder as he began to cry, the loss and the pain that had been building up inside him forcing its way out.

Cordelia held him, stroking his hair silently.

* * *

Buffy sat up moving her neck from side to side to work out the kinks from spending the night in a less-than-comfortable chair.

"Good mornin', sunshine."

Buffy stretched as she looked over at Spike sitting up in the hospital bed. "Good morning yourself" she replied. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long. Been trying to figure out how exactly you got yourself contorted into that position in that chair to sleep."

"Slayer flexibility. Have any doctors or nurses been in?"

"Nope."

Buffy stood. "I'm going to see if I can find one, and hopefully we can get out of here. I don't want to be stuck in a hospital any longer than I have to be."

"Technically, pet, I'm the one who's stuck. You're free to leave at any time."

"I'm not abandoning you in the hospital, Spike. I'll be right back."

Spike nodded and watched her go. He wondered to himself what it meant that she had been by his side ever since he'd somehow become human. She'd even let the hospital staff think she was his wife. Did she want to pick up where they'd left off in Sunnydale?

Spike pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Nothing would make him happier than spending this newfound life of his with Buffy, but he knew he shouldn't get his hopes up. This was merely her looking out for an old friend—nothing more.

Spike settled back against his pillow, waiting for Buffy to return.

* * *

Angel woke up on the floor. Alone. He sat up, rubbing his face for a moment before looking around. "Cordy?" When no one answered, he frowned and called again. "Cordelia?"

Nothing. Not even her scent remained. Angel sighed. He must have dreamed it all.

Slowly, he forced himself to his feet. He could hear activity in other parts of his hotel, and knew that the Slayers were still here, regrouping from their last battle.

_A battle he'd caused. _

Angel shook his head. No. It had been inevitable. A confrontation with Wolfram and Hart had been in the cards. All he'd done was sped up the deal.

He straightened his clothes, hoping that his late-night rampage hadn't made him look too un-presentable. It was times like these that he really wished for a reflection.

Angel walked out into the hallway, almost immediately running into Willow. "You're still here?"

Willow frowned. "Yeah, nice to see you, too."

Angel looked sheepish. "Sorry. Just…rough night and I haven't had my morning cup of blood."

Willow gave him a half smile. "Right. Well, I won't be here much longer anyway. I've been helping with the Slayer healing, but now that Kennedy's safe to move, we'll probably head on out."

"Kennedy?" Angel asked.

"My girlfriend. She's one of the Slayers. She got hurt pretty bad in the fight."

Angel frowned. "I'm sorry."

"She's going to be okay. She's a tough one."

"Slayers tend to be. Speaking of, has anyone heard from Buffy?"

"She called about an hour ago and said that she and Spike were leaving the hospital. They were going to get some breakfast and then head over here."

"What time is it?"

"Around eleven."

Angel nodded. "I think I'm going to go back and get a little more rest. It's a bit early for a vampire still."

Willow smiled. "All right. We'll let you know if you're needed for anything."

"Thanks, Willow."

"Well, good to see you again, Angel. You know, when I'm not trying to stick your soul back in you."

"Yeah, you, too. Hope Kennedy starts feeling better."

"Me, too."

Angel went back into his room, deciding maybe he wasn't as ready to face the day as he'd thought. Running Wolfram and Hart had forced him to get used to a more human type of sleep schedule, but now he just wanted to rest, if only because it meant he'd be alone.

The disappointment over waking up without Cordelia when their conversation the night before had seemed so real was almost tangible, and his run-in with Willow had only compounded his loneliness. Buffy and Spike were out somewhere, having breakfast together. They'd most likely walked through the sunlight to get to the restaurant, and Spike would be nourishing himself with something other than blood. Angel could picture Buffy sitting with Spike, smiling and laughing as they shared a nice, human meal.

Angel found his mattress across the room from what remained of his bed frame, and dragged it to a clear spot on the floor. He lay down and stared up at the ceiling, wishing more than anything that he could take back the moment that he signed away his destiny.

* * *

Your thoughts…let me know 'em. In other words, review please! 


	4. Chapter Four

Spike closed his eyes, fearing for his newly-regained life. The only thing that kept him from panicking was that he had come to the conclusion that the Powers that Be wouldn't have gone through all that trouble to restore his life only to kill him again within forty-eight hours. Still, he held on for dear life.

When the danger finally passed, Spike let out a deep breath, muttering a thank you to any god who may have been listening at the moment that he'd made it out of that alive.

"I don't think I'm in this parking space right. Do you think I should…"

"No!" Spike yelled, white with fear at the mere mention of Buffy restarting the car's ignition. "We're good!"

"But…"

"We're fine. Just please, give me the keys and get out of the car."

Buffy frowned. "Why do I have to give you the keys?"

"Because I'm driving home."

"You can't! You don't have a license. I do. Well, an Italian license anyway. Do those still count here?"

"Buffy, I've been driving without a license since before you were even born."

"Yes, but now you can't just eat the cop if you get pulled over."

"So I'll have to rely on my good looks alone. And possibly get one of the license things. You think they give them out to former vampires"

"We'd have to get you a new identity," Buffy replied. She stared forward, out the windshield. "Would it be a California one?"

"California what? Identity? I think the accent might blow that cover."

"No. I meant the license."

"Oh. I…I don't know. Probably."

Buffy handed him the keys, her eyes not meeting his. "Here. Let's go inside."

"Are you all right, luv?"

"I'm fine," Buffy said, looking at him again and giving a slightly too cheery smile. "You have the keys. I'm not driving anymore. Let's get something to eat." Before Spike could respond, Buffy opened the car door and stepped out, slamming the door behind her. She frowned at her parking job, but didn't say anything about it. When she heard Spike shut the door on his side, she looked up at him, shielding her eyes from the bright morning sun. "Hit the lock button twice."

"Huh?"

"The thing on the keychain—with the buttons. Point it towards the car and press the one with the closed padlock twice."

Spike did what she said and heard the locks of the car click, followed by the horn sounding once. "Bit more high-tech than the DeSoto," he said. "She didn't even have automatic locks. I guess those cars I kept 'liberating' from Peaches could do that, but I never could figure out all the gadgets on those things."

"Whatever happened to the DeSoto anyway?" Buffy asked.

"It's still too painful to talk about," Spike replied. "So are we going in or not"

"We're going." Buffy started towards the restaurant, only to realize that Spike had stopped walking after only a couple of steps. She turned sharply. "What are you doing?"

"The parking lot back at the hospital was covered. I didn't even think about it."

"Think about what?" Buffy asked. Spike pointed up towards the sun. "Oh," Buffy replied, providing the answer to her own question. "You're basking in the non-flammable UV goodness."

Spike looked down at the ground, a boyish grin on his face. "Look, my shadow. Haven't seen much of him lately."

"Well, there was that time you had the Gem of Amara…"

"Yeah, until _somebody_ had to go and steal it."

"Hey! You were trying to kill me."

"Oh, like you weren't having just as much fun as I was."

"I was not! I was…" Buffy stopped in mid-sentence, laughing at the expression on Spike's face that clearly said "yeah, right." "Okay, fine. Maybe a little. I always did enjoy fighting you more than anyone else."

"Mutual, pet."

Buffy moved closer to him, stopping with only about a foot between them. Spike reached up, running his fingers through the front of her hair. "There was one thing I never forgot about that day," he said.

"What was that?" Buffy asked, her voice trembling right along with her knees.

"How beautiful you are in the sunlight." Spike leaned in, and Buffy felt her breath catch as his lips almost touched hers. Suddenly, he pulled away. "So, breakfast? Been sort of wasting my human taste buds on that hospital food."

"Right. Breakfast it is," Buffy said, not sure if what she was feeling was relief or disappointment. She followed Spike into the restaurant, neither of them stopping again until they were inside.

* * *

"Do you want a little coffee with that sugar?"

Spike gave Buffy a dirty look as he ripped open another sugar packet and dumped it into the mug. "Over a century of dulled taste buds, Slayer. Bitter and I are not friends right now."

"I wonder if you'll have the same problem with spicy. You maybe have to give up the chicken wings."

Spike's expression switched to one of horror. "If that's the case, then I'm getting myself re-vamped, no questions asked. Life just wouldn't be worth it without the spicy Buffalo wings."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You're pathetic—you know that, don't you?"

"It's not my fault that you can't appreciate fine chicken wings" Spike replied.

"And you're a little insane, too."

"You're here with me. What does that say about _you_?" Buffy responded to his question by sticking out her tongue, to which Spike replied with a chuckle, "No advertising unless you plan to use it, kitten."

Buffy blushed a deep red, suddenly finding the inside of her coffee mug very interesting. "Saying things like that to throw me off is cheating, you know."

"Yeah, but it's fun, too."

Buffy looked up slightly, giving him a smirk. "Evil."

Spike ran his tongue along his teeth. "Always, baby."

For a moment, their eyes met, and Buffy felt a shiver run up her spine. She hadn't seen this man in over a year, and yet he still had the power to affect her with just a look. And that thing he did with his tongue… Buffy wasn't sure if she hated it or loved it. She was the first to break eye contact, turning back to her coffee.

"Are you examining that coffee for demonic activity?" Spike asked after a moment.

Buffy's head shot up. "Huh? No, I just… No."

Spike ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry if I made things awkward. Wasn't going for that. I'm just so used to the banter with us, I guess I forgot for a moment that things are different now."

"What is this?"

"What's what, Slayer?"

"This," Buffy said, gesturing in front of her. "What we're doing here."

"Uh, I could be completely wrong, but I thought this was us having breakfast."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant."

"It's what you asked."

"Would you stop being all avoid-o guy? You keep getting all flirty, like in the parking lot with the hair touching and the comment about how beautiful I am in the sunlight, and…and then just now with that damn tongue thing! But then you go all cold, and you tell me that things are 'different.' What's going on in that bleached head of yours, huh?"

"I don't know! I see you, and god, you're so beautiful it makes me ache. I really never thought I'd see you again, but here you are, so close I can reach out and touch you. But I can't. Things are different, Buffy. _We're_ different. A lot has changed in a year, and we can't pretend like it hasn't and pick up where we left off. I don't think I even want to. What is there for us anyway but to go our separate ways"

Spike's words made Buffy feel cold. What had he meant by that last part? "Do…do you not want to be a part of my life anymore?"

"Where would I fit in? It's not like you need me to scratch your itches now. Got yourself a new bloke for that."

"You were more than just an 'itch-scratcher,' Spike. You know that."

"Do I?"

"Dammit, how could you not?" Buffy asked, starting to get angry. "I told you as much in the Hellmouth before you had to go and try to tell me what I was feeling!"

"Is that what you feel now? Do you love me?"

Buffy was silent for a moment before she finally said, "I don't know."

"That's what I thought. You don't need me in your life anymore. You don't even need me fighting by your side anymore. You have a whole army for that." Spike looked down at his hands. "I don't think I even could anymore. I'm probably as useless as _Xander_ in a fight now."

"You mean more to me than just another fighter by my side, too. You…you understand me, Spike. Better than anyone ever has—probably better than anyone ever will. You've always had a way of looking at me and just _knowing_, of telling me truths about myself that even I haven't realized yet. I've always been able to hide myself from everyone, Spike—even from me. But not from you. Never from you."

Spike looked at her, his head tilted slightly as he regarded her so intently for a moment that Buffy grew nervous. Finally he spoke, "But where does that leave us? You call me up every now and then when you can't figure yourself out?"

Buffy started sliding out of the booth then, anger clearly written on her face. Spike reached out and grabbed her hand before she could leave. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"The bathroom," Buffy snapped.

"Don't run off like this."

Buffy snatched her hand away. "Don't tell me what to do."

Spike pulled away, letting her go. "Fine."

Buffy let her expression remain angry until she was safely alone in the bathroom. It was then that her face fell, and the tears that she'd been holding back came to the surface. She didn't want to admit it, but Spike was right. She couldn't expect him to fall back into how things were before with him centering himself around his love for her, be it requited or not. He had a life now—a real _life­_—in Los Angeles, and she'd started to put down roots in Italy. And of course there was the issue that they'd both skated around—she was currently involved with someone else. She couldn't rightfully expect him to want to throw away whatever it was he had for him here just to be what to her: An ally? A friend?

He hadn't even bothered to call her when he'd been brought back. Clearly, there was something here that he'd rather be doing than going back to her. She could understand that, respect that—but that didn't mean it didn't _hurt_.

She'd long since begun to take Spike's love for her for granted. He was the one constant male figure in her life, the one who did not waiver, even when she tried to push him away. Even when she'd told him to move on, Buffy had secretly coveted the belief that he never would.

But he had. He'd moved on and left her behind. She knew it wasn't fair of her to expect anything else, and that she had to accept things as they were. She had to be mature about it, give Spike what he wanted, even if that meant she had to let go. She wiped her eyes, steeling herself again before she went back to the table.

The food had already arrived, but Spike hadn't started eating. He was frowning, and when Buffy sat down again, she could practically feel the nervousness rolling off of him. She forced a smile to her lips. "You didn't have to wait for me, you know."

"I know, I just… Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, we were sort of arguing, and then you took off, and I thought…"

"Nope, we're good. Things got a little heavy, and I needed a moment, that's all."

"So you're not cross with me?"

"Nope. Are we going to eat or not?"

Spike was still frowning as they began their breakfast, but decided not to press things. Instead he allowed Buffy to make idle chat with him throughout the meal, pretending that nothing had gone on before.

* * *

As they walked out of the restaurant, Spike looked over at Buffy and felt a sudden grip of panic. There was nothing to keep her here. She'd be going back to Italy soon, possibly with the next twenty-four hours. After that, he might not ever see her again. He needed something—just a day, even if it turned out to be a day to say good-bye. "Buffy?"

Buffy stopped and turned. "Yeah?"

"Can we maybe not go back to the hotel yet? I want to stay out for a little while. This…this could be the last day."

"The last day for what?"

"Me being human," Spike said quickly, mentally kicking himself for coming that close to telling her what was really on his mind.

"Why do you say that?" Buffy asked with a frown.

"We have no way of knowing if this is permanent. Tomorrow I could wake up dead—again. If that is the case, well, I'd rather remember spending this day in the sunlight than cooped up in Angel's hotel answering a million questions."

Buffy thought for a moment. She'd have to go back to Italy soon, back to her new life. What if this was the last chance she ever had to spend time with Spike? "All right. Day out in the sunlight it is."

Spike grinned, feeling a bit of relief. "Let's get going then. Don't want to waste any of the day."

Buffy followed him to the car. She didn't want to waste any of it either.

* * *

I got a few complaints on the last chapter about the lack of Spuffy interaction. I'm asking you as a writer to please, please, please let me move this story at my own pace. There will be plenty of scenes between Spike and Buffy—as this chapter demonstrates—but I'm not going to sacrifice the narrative for the sake of Spuffy scenes. This story has a plot. It must be advanced. In order for this to happen, I must have exposition, some of which involves characters other than Spike and Buffy. It is imperative to the narrative that I develop certain points thoroughly, otherwise the story will fall apart. So be patient! This story is Spike/Buffy, and they will be the central characters—you just have to let me develop the rest of the story, too. Thanks!

And of course, reviews would be lovely.


	5. Chapter Five

They ended up at the Santa Monica Pier. Spike found a place to stand, looking over the ocean, watching the sunlight as it danced over the water. Buffy watched him, smiling at the awe and delight that was apparent on his face at something so simple. She reached up, touching his arm. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I haven't seen the ocean like this in so long. It's nice at night, but it's not the same. When I was little—when my father was still alive, and my mum wasn't so sick—we'd go to the seaside during the summer. The first day there, I'd always stay out the whole time, despite my mother's complaints and the fact that I'd end up resembling a lobster. Never much wanted to go in the water, but I loved watching everything, taking it all in. Just being out there in the sunshine."

Buffy felt her heart tug at the thought of Spike as a child, visiting the beach with his family. "Have you missed it? I mean, all these years have you been wishing you could see the sun again?"

"Sometimes. Didn't much with Dru. Thought I'd found something better." The bitterness in his tone when he spoke of Drusilla surprised Spike as he felt a sudden swell of anger at his sire for what she'd taken from him. As a vampire, he'd seen what Drusilla as having given him a gift, but now that he was human again, things looked a little differently. Still, if Dru had never turned him, then he wouldn't have met Buffy. Even with all the bad things that had happened in his relationship with the Slayer, he wouldn't trade a moment of it.

"Was it better?"

Buffy's voice pulled Spike back to the moment. "Was what better?"

"When you were a vampire—with Drusilla. Was it better than this?"

Spike looked at Buffy, cupping her cheek in his hand. "Nothing's better than this, luv."

Buffy's eyes widened, and Spike could hear her heartbeat speed up. He knew if he kissed her then that she'd kiss back, but he didn't know what would happen after that. He wanted nothing more than to live this new life he'd been given with the woman he loved, but for the first time in such a long time, he was afraid to take a chance. What if she tossed him aside like she had before? He didn't think he could handle that again, not now. If he was going to have Buffy, he wanted all of her. He pulled back and said with a shrug, "Guess I'm done with the whole vampire bit. Might as well enjoy this new living in the sunlight thing."

Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, wondering if she'd merely imagined Spike almost kissing her. She tried to cover up the moment, the feelings going through her too unsettled to deal with. "The sunlight's a good look for you," she said. "Even if it does make you hair almost blinding to look at."

Her comment broke the tension between them, reinstating the precarious camaraderie that they're been sharing since Spike had woken up in the hospital. Spike turned, looking past Buffy's head. "Come on. Let's go on that."

"On what?"

"That," Spike replied, pointing.

Buffy's eyes grew wide as she realized what he meant. "Oh no. Ferris wheels are among the things that are not mixy with Buffy."

"Aw, come on Slayer. You can't tell me _you're_ scared of a Ferris wheel."

"I'm not scared! They just make me…uncomfortable. Besides, why do you want to get on it anyway?"

Spike shrugged. "For the view. I wanna see how the sun lights up the world."

"Fine," Buffy said, deciding she couldn't deny him that. "But if I throw up, it's sooo your fault."

"Lighten up, kitten. Be fun for once in your life."

"Hey! I'm fun! I'm lots of fun!" At Spike's raised eyebrow she asked with uncertainty trembling in her voice, "You never had fun with me?"

"Well, there was _some_ fun to be had," Spike replied with a leer, letting Buffy know _exactly_ to what he was referring. Then he added, "But as far as just letting yourself have a good time with me, no. We were more about secretive, guilty meetings in the dark."

"We're not in the dark anymore."

"No, we're not."

Buffy looked down. "I had fun with you sometimes—when I let myself. And not just the kinky kind of fun."

"Yeah? When?"

"There…there was that night with the kitten poker."

"You were drunk out of your gourd, Slayer. Besides, you told me that night 'sucked' if I remember correctly."

"I know I said that, but it didn't really. Okay, maybe parts, but there was some fun, too. I…I wanted to be with you, you know. I wanted to do things with you, let you be more like a boyfriend, but I was afraid."

Spike didn't say anything for a moment. He'd never imagined that Buffy had ever considered him as actual boyfriend material. He wanted her to be with him, to have her heart belong to him as much as his belonged to her, but the idea of say, going on actual dates with Buffy had never really entered his mind. But now that it had… Spike pushed the thought aside. Just because she'd felt that way back in Sunnydale certainly didn't mean she did now. He wondered for a moment if the Immortal took her out like that, and he felt the bile rise in his throat. "Don't know how well it would've worked anyway," he said. "Would've been sort of hard to hide us from the Scoobies if we were out on the town."

"Yeah, well, that's another thing I regret—keeping us a secret like that."

Spike placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "No point on dwelling on it right now, pet. Let's just enjoy our day, shall we?"

Buffy gave him a bright smile, and Spike couldn't help but feel his heart soar. "Sounds like a deal to me," she said.

* * *

Angel paced his room, looking every bit the part of a caged animal. Buffy and Spike should've been back already, and the knowledge that they weren't infuriated him. He couldn't believe that Buffy would be so naïve as to just accept Spike becoming human. Didn't she know that this had to be a bad thing? There was no way that the Powers would reward Spike like that. To consider him worthy of that level of redemption… It was ridiculous.

Angel knew something evil had to be behind this. For all they knew, Spike had made some sort of deal with the Senior Partners, probably just so he could trick Buffy into thinking he was worth trusting and steal her away from Angel.

He kicked a piece of his bed frame. This was _not_ the way things were supposed to happen. If Buffy didn't see how bad this was, well, he'd have to tell her—and make sure she listened.

Spike would _not _get his destiny, or his girl. Angel wouldn't allow it.

* * *

"See, this isn't so bad, is it?"

Buffy tightened the grip she had on Spike's leg. "It's very high, and I really wish this thing we're sitting in didn't keep shaking. It feels like we're going to tip out."

"We're not going to tip out," Spike said.

"We could. Wouldn't that be embarrassing—a Slayer being done in by a Ferris wheel." Buffy frowned. "Maybe it's a demonic Ferris wheel."

"It's not a demonic Ferris wheel. Just relax, enjoy the view."

"But we're up so high…" Buffy hated to admit it, but ever since she'd leapt from Glory's tower, high places had not been on her list of favorite things.

Spike put an arm around her. "No need to be nervous, Buffy. I'm here—I won't let anything happen to you."

Buffy was amazed at how his touch could manage to calm her and excite her at the same time. She looked over the side, squeezing Spike's thigh as she fought off the vertigo. She leaned against him, admitting to herself that the view from the top was pretty neat.

Spike, for his part, was beginning to regret this little idea of his. Buffy's scent was assaulting him, and that coupled with her nearness was driving him crazy. He'd thought that her scent wouldn't still affect him like this now that he was a human, that it wouldn't be this strong. But it was the same as it had always been, still calling to him. He fought the urge to turn and bury his nose in her hair.

He could feel Buffy's nervousness draining from her as she settled down beside him. He tried to get himself to relax as well. This could be the last time he was this close to Buffy, the last time he was surrounded by her glorious scent. At that thought, he tightened his arm around her.

Buffy felt the hold Spike had on her strengthen. Being in his arms again, even like this, was setting her emotions into a tizzy. That small voice in the back of her mind that always seemed to throw its two cents in where Spike was concerned was telling her she should throw him off of her. But she didn't want to listen to that voice this time. She _wanted_ to be in Spike's arms. She'd spent a year thinking he was dead, a year believing she'd never be near him again, and now…

Buffy felt the tears rolling down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying.

"Why are you crying, luv?" Spike asked.

"You." Buffy felt Spike's grip loosen, but she held on to him before he could manage to slip away. "No, wait. Let me finish. I…I thought you were dust, and here you are, and I can touch you…"

"And that's a bad thing?"

"No! For all your swagger, you can be really insecure sometimes, you know that? It's just a big emotional thing, and…" Buffy placed her head against him. "You're here, and you're real…oh god, Spike, you're _real_."

"Yeah, I guess I am."

Buffy kept crying, even as the ride came to an end, and Spike led her over to a bench. He held on to her, quietly reassuring her until she finally looked up him, wiping at her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go all weepy girl on you."

"As long as the tears meant you're happy I'm back, then it's all okay, pet."

Buffy laughed, lighting punching his arm. "Of course I'm happy you're back. And I would've been just as happy it I'd heard about it months ago, too."

Spike looked at her sheepishly. "Yeah, I knows I was a right git about that."

"Damn straight."

Spike brushed the last of her tears out of her eyes. "You were the first thing I asked about when I popped out of the amulet, wanted to know if you were all right. I tried to get back to you then, too, but I couldn't. And then when I could, well, I got scared, Buffy. I was afraid that you really hadn't meant it when you said you loved me, and that maybe you wouldn't be all that happy to see me. Angel said you were doing well in your new life, and I was afraid I'd just be an intrusion."

"Oh, Angel said, huh? I barely talked to Angel after the Hellmouth closed, Spike. We went to L.A. immediately after to regroup, and I gave him a brief description of what went down, but that was it. No one wanted to trust the new CEO of the Law Firm of Evil, myself included. Anything Angel knew about my 'new life' was reported back to him by his spies. I guess he figured with all the money he was getting from Wolfram and Hart he could finally get someone to do his stalking for him."

"Yeah, I heard about that," Spike said.

"I still haven't gotten over him agreeing to run that place. What was he thinking? I mean, taking evil down by joining forces with it? Is he a complete idiot?"

"Yes, actually. I don't know what all that forehead does, but it certainly isn't storing any brain matter."

"It's to shield his beady little eyes."

Spike gaped. "Did you just agree with my Angel insult—and then add to it?"

"Yep, sure did." Buffy's mood darkened again. "Some of my girls are dead because of him. His damn stunt with Evil Inc. almost brought on an apocalypse."

"He had other reasons for it, too." Spike thought for a moment that maybe he shouldn't spill his grandsire's big secret to Buffy, but then he remember how much he hated the guy. "Not sure on the specifics, but it turns out he had a son with a resurrected Darla. The kid got raised in a hell dimension, came back all wonky in the head, and Peaches made a deal with Wolfram and Hart to try to give the boy a normal life, or some such rot. Erased everyone's memory of him and had a new life fabricated for his son."

Buffy's jaw fell, and for a moment she said nothing at all. When she did speak, the best she could come up with was, "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. Apparently there was all sorts of badness surrounding it, too, with Wesley trying to get the kid away from Angel because of a buggered up prophecy claiming Angel would make the kid a light snack."

"And you say Angel erased everyone's memory of everything pertaining to his son? That, too?"

"Yeah."

"How convenient," Buffy muttered.

"What do you mean, pet?"

"I don't know… Just, well, if there was badness, and Angel made a deal with evil that made it all go 'poof…' Convenient in a creepy, wrong sort of way."

Spike frowned, thinking about how Wesley had said something about how Angel had seemed more willing to let Connor die than let the memories he'd had erased be released. "You think it was more about Angel than Connor?"

"I can't say for sure since I don't know the whole story, but knowing what I do about Angel, I'd say yes. He's much more likely to try to gloss over problems than actually face them. And hey, if it 'never happened,' then it's one less thing to weigh down his guilt-ridden soul." Buffy punctuated the last setence with a roll of her eyes.

Spike's brow knitted. "Since when were you so down on Angel, Buffy?"

"I'm not really down on him, I'm just…seeing him a little differently these days. Although I hope he at least learned from this." Buffy looked down for a second before looking back up, and Spike could see a hint of insecurity in her eyes. "Did I know he had a son before he did the memory wipe, or did he keep it from me?"

"Dunno, pet. Never came up."

"I don't know which bothers me more—the thought that Angel would keep something that big from me, or that he'd steal any of my memories like that. If something happened to me, I want to remember it."

Spike stroked her hair, hating the fact that Angel still had the power to put that look in Buffy's eyes, even after all she'd seen him do, that he could reduce her to the unsure little girl she'd been with him in the past. Sometimes he wanted to shake her, make her see what he really was, but he had long since given up on erasing all the love she felt for the other man. "I'm sure which ever one it was, he wasn't trying to hurt you," Spike said, not sure why he was defending Angel. He figured it was because he didn't like seeing Buffy upset.

Buffy put on her best smile then, taking Spike's hand. "I really don't want to talk about Angel anymore right now. We were supposed to be having fun, right?"

Spike smiled back, deciding it would be best just to leave things there for now. He knew that there were several unfinished conversations in the exchange they'd just had, but he didn't want to ruin this day. "Right. Ready to get to it, pet?"

"You betcha." Buffy and Spike stood, their hands still intertwined.

* * *

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on all this. Review please! 


	6. Chapter Six

Spike and Buffy had been gone for hours, and Angel was sick of waiting. He stalked towards the door, determined to find them and put an end to all of this.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

Angel turned sharply, staring at the woman now standing in his room. "Cordelia?"

"The one and only. And again I ask, where are you going?"

"Spike and Buffy have been gone all day. I have to find them."

"Um, in case you haven't noticed, it's a little bright out there. Unless your method of finding them involves being a flaming pillar of dust, I suggest you stay in."

"I can go through the sewers."

"So you're what, going to wander around the L.A. sewer system trying to catch a glimpse of them somewhere?" When Angel frowned but said nothing, Cordelia continued. "Buffy doesn't need you to be her protector, especially not now."

"But Spike is probably out there putting the moves on her again. He isn't right for her!"

"Not your decision to make."

"He mystically transformed from vampire to human in the middle of a battle with Wolfram and Hart. That can't be a good thing."

"Wasn't it at the _end_ of the battle—an _apocalyptic_ battle?"

"It wasn't the Shanshu, Cordy."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"Because it's Spike!"

Cordelia sighed, crossing her arms in front of her. "Vampire with a soul, fought in the apocalypse, stop me when I get to something that sounds Shanshu-related here."

"But I'm the one who worked for it! I spent years earning the right to that prophecy.—and years before that suffering because of what I'd done as Angelus. Spike's had a soul for what, five minutes, and he's Shanshu worthy? Not possible."

"Have you completely forgotten you signed it away?" Cordelia asked, arching an eyebrow. "Which, might I add, was just a stupid thing to do."

"It was my destiny! That shouldn't have mattered! You can't change a prophecy!"

"It didn't change, Angel. The prophecy was fulfilled the way it was always meant to be fulfilled."

Angel stared at her. "What?"

Cordelia took his hand. "We all have our destinies, Angel. This was Spike's. Yours lays elsewhere."

"I can't accept that! I'm the vampire with a soul!"

"And now you're back to being the only one. The prophecy was fulfilled, and the universe has balance again."

"It should've been me."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But that isn't the issue anymore—or the reason I'm here. The Powers made their decision, and it's in the past now. Spike is human, and that can't be changed. It's the future I'm worried about. You've lost the mission, Angel. You lost it the moment you signed that devil's deal with Wolfram and Hart."

"I did that to save Connor. You of all people should understand that."

Cordelia dropped his hand. "But is that even what you did—and is that the only reason why you did it? You were lost. Everything you'd believed in had been turned on its head. Wolfram and Hart swooped down at just the right time, got you when you were weak. They offered you more than just a new life for Connor. Don't lie to me and say that's all it was. I know better than that, and so do you."

"I wanted to bring down Wolfram and Hart—and I did."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I stopped the Circle of the Black Thorn."

"Evil doesn't just disappear, Angel. It goes somewhere else, finds someone new. The Senior Partners are still there. They always will be. There has to be a balance."

"Evil has to be stoppable, Cordy. If it's not, then why do I even fight?"

"You fight because it's the right thing to do."

"That's not enough!"

Cordelia placed her hand gently against his cheek. "You still have a long way to go. You focus so much on redeeming yourself, on atoning for the sins of Angelus. But the past is in the past. You can't change what you did, and you can't make any of it better. You have to focus on what's happening now and what will happen in the future. Trying to change yesterday is pointless, Angel. But working towards tomorrow—that you can do. You don't do good to make up for the bad—you do it because it's _right_."

"Cordelia, I…"

Cordelia moved her hand down, pressing her fingers against his lips. "No. I can't stay much longer, and I need you to listen to me. You're getting obsessed again, and we both know where your obsessions lead. You let yourself get so wrapped up in things that you don't see the world around you anymore. You can't do that again. Just accept what is. She's going to be happy, Angel. Just let that be enough for you."

"But I worked so hard…"

"And you still have work to do. I'm sorry, but that's the way things are." Cordelia stepped back from him. "I have to go now. Please, remember what I said."

"Why do you have to leave? Why weren't you here this morning?" Angel reached out for her, but stopped before he actually managed to touch her. "If you're here now, why can't you stay?"

"I just can't yet. I'm sorry. I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else, but now isn't the time. It was hard enough for me to get here this morning, but I knew you needed me. So don't make this all a waste of my time. Be the champion I know you are." When she finished speaking, Cordelia faded from view.

Angel touched the spot where she'd been but felt nothing. He wondered if maybe he'd lost his mind, if he'd been pushed to the point of hallucination. Cordelia was just as gone as she'd been that morning, not even a trace of her scent remaining.

He didn't leave the hotel room.

* * *

Spike wasn't sure what had possessed him to do it. He'd seen the "Test Your Strength" game, and he'd been too curious not to. He had to see what he was capable of, now that he was human. Test the waters a little.

And he'd gotten his answer—in the form of a smashed strength-tester. The initial shock of the worker at what Spike had managed to accomplish had allowed him and Buffy to sneak away before questions—or demands that Spike pay for the damages—began.

But now he and Buffy were sitting in an uncomfortable silence, too many questions to ask and not enough answers. Buffy spoke first, and her comment sounded lame even to her own ears.

"You're stronger than human."

"Well, yeah," Spike replied, his hands fidgeting on top of the picnic table that separated them.

"Did you know that was going to happen?"

"Think I would've done it if I'd known?"

Buffy frowned. He had a point with that. "But…you're human now. You're in the sunlight, and your heart is beating, and…and your skin is warm. You're _human_. Humans can't do what you just did."

Spike looked down at the table. Andy loved Maria. Keith had been there in '02. "My senses are still heightened," he admitted softly.

"And you're just now telling me this?"

Spike's head shot up. "I wasn't sure until now, all right? They've been heightened for 125 years, Buffy. It took me a bit to realize that that shouldn't be normal anymore. And I still wasn't sure if they were or if, well, if it was just you."

"Me?"

"Your scent, it's always been so strong to me. And don't make that face about it either. It's…it's a good smell. I thought maybe you were just having the same effect on me you always did, but then other things were stronger than I thought they should be, too, and that strength thing—I needed to test it. I needed to know."

"Are you still a vampire?" Buffy asked. "Did you get a mystical equivalent of the Gem of Amara?"

"I don't think so. Like you said, my heart's beating. I tried to hold my breath a few minutes ago, and it made my chest burn. My body has been behaving like a human's this whole time—not a vampire's. I don't know what's going on anymore than you do."

"I guess we should get back," Buffy said with a sigh. "We need to look into this."

Spike's eyes shifted back down to the table, his finger tracing the carved letters. "I know. I just don't want to."

"Me either. I've…I've been having a good time out with you. But we need to."

He looked at her again. "I know. Do you think maybe we could not go to the Hyperion? All the Slayers might still be running around, and it's bound to be a mess with all the…"

"With all the Angel being there?" Buffy asked with a small smile.

"Yeah."

"Is there some place else we could go?"

"I have an apartment."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. Did you honestly think I could live in the same building as Peaches?"

"No, I just…well, I never pictured you in anything but a crypt. Or an old abandoned factory…"

"Well, I think the crypt was a little nicer than this place, but it serves its purpose."

"Does it have a phone? 'Cause I'm going to need to call Giles."

"Yes."

Buffy stood up. "We'll go there then. I think I'd rather keep a low profile about this right now anyway, at least until we know more about what's going on."

"Me, too."

Spike stood beside Buffy, his hands in his pockets. "Let's go back to my place then."

* * *

"Sorry it's so, well, basement-like," Spike said as he led Buffy into his apartment. He was happy to see everything as he'd left it, since after the way things had been going, he'd half expected it to have disappeared. "No windows, but that used to be a plus as far as I was concerned."

"It's cheerier than my basement was."

"And the bed is bigger, too. Although not by much," Spike replied, gesturing towards his bedroom.

"You have me in your apartment for under a minute, and you're already showing me your bed."

Spike's eyes widened. "Buffy, I didn't mean, I…I'm…"

Buffy laughed. "I'm teasing you, Spike. I knew what you meant. I remember how tiny that cot was, too. Not that I minded at the time…"

"So, um, you wanted to call Giles?" Spike asked, not wanting to go down that particular branch of Memory Lane. Things were complicated enough as it was.

"Yeah. Where's the phone?"

"In the bedroom—by the infamous bed."

"Right. I'll be right back."

As Buffy went off to call Giles, Spike went to the fridge, glad to find his beers where also where he'd left them. He popped the top off one and started to drink it quickly, when he realized he had no idea the effect it would have on him. Did his semi-vampiric abilities extend to alcohol consumption, or would he get drunk at a human rate? He figured he'd have to test it, but now wasn't the time. Instead he sat at the table, slowly nursing the drink as he waited for Buffy to come back.

"Giles is getting on the first plane to L.A.," Buffy announced when she walked out of the bedroom.

"How'd he take the news?" Spike asked, still seated.

Buffy leaned against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her. "He reached for his glasses so fast he dropped the phone. And that was _before_ I told him you had retained some of your vampiric traits."

"So not well then?"

"Not well exactly, but not bad either. He just took the news…well, like Giles."

"Lots of 'oh dears?'"

"Interspersed between the 'good Lords.'"

"Good to see some things stay the same."

"He won't be here until tomorrow sometime," Buffy said.

"And in the meantime?" Spike asked.

"As much as I really, really don't want to, I need to go to Angel's hotel. It's Slayer Central right now, and I should be checking on my girls. A lot of them were injured, and I've been neglecting them."

Spike glanced down at the top of his beer can. "I'm sorry. That's my fault."

"No, it's mine. I put you first—and I don't regret that. They had people watching over them. But I do need to go over there, get a damage report. I'll come back here as soon as I can."

"You don't have to…"

"I know. I want to."

"No word to Peaches about this, right?" Spike asked, glancing up again.

"My lips are sealed. He'd just, well, make things more complicated."

"That's an understatement to beat all understatements, pet."

Buffy smirked. "Wait for me here, okay? I'll be back."

"Nowhere else to go," Spike replied.

Unable to stop herself, Buffy walked over, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you soon, Spike."

As she turned and walked to the door, Spike's hand went up to touch the place her lips had just left. "See you soon," he repeated.

Buffy glanced back and gave him a smile before leaving.

* * *

I know you've got something to say. Review please. :-) 


	7. Chapter Seven

Although Buffy had been gone for a while now, Spike had not finished his first beer. His mind was racing, but he found that he didn't want to stop himself from thinking, from feeling. All of this—the final fight with Wolfram and Hart, the Shanshu, Buffy—had his thoughts in a jumble, and he knew that numbing them wouldn't make them go away. Maybe it was this whole being human thing, making him see the world in a different light.

Or in a light at all, for that matter.

Spike strummed the top of the can with his fingers, replaying Buffy's exit in his mind over and over again. She'd kissed him. She's smiled at him. She'd promised to come back. Could it be possible that she did still have feelings for him? Could they have something now that everything had changed between them?

Spike frowned, forcing that bit of hope away. He couldn't honestly let himself believe that being human would get him Buffy. It wasn't that simple. This wasn't a fairy tale. She didn't bring him to life with a kiss so they could live happily ever after. He'd been brought to life in the wake of horrible, bloody death and destruction, and the fact that the Powers that Be had seen fit to keep him in fighting form led him to believe that there wasn't a happily ever after in the offing either.

He still wanted her, Spike was sure of that. He wanted Buffy more than he'd ever wanted anyone, anything. He wanted to spend what existence he had left at her side, finally able to touch her world of warmth and light. But what was left for them? She had moved on, started a life that didn't involve him. He'd seen only a brief glimpse of her in Rome, but she'd seemed carefree. Not the broken, tired warrior he'd known back on the Hellmouth. She was clearly happier without him, and Spike felt a pang of regret that he was keeping her away from that now, even as it mingled with his selfish desire to keep her here with him forever, no matter what the cost.

He wondered now why he'd even been turned human. What sort of reward was it anyway? He didn't get the girl, didn't get a normal life. He was in the same place he'd been before, only now without the eternal youth. Maybe Angel did get the better end of the deal…

Spike slumped in his chair, staring at the can still on the table. Redemption really was overrated.

* * *

As soon as Buffy walked into the lobby of the Hyperion, Willow spotted her. "Buffy! You're here!"

Buffy smiled as the redhead approached her, meeting her halfway. "Yep. I wanted to check on the Slayers, make sure everything was going well."

"It is," Willow said. "I've been supervising the healing, and all the Slayers are going to be fine—the ones who made it here, that is."

Buffy felt a twist of guilt at the thought of how she'd essentially led those who didn't make it to their deaths. She knew that was what a general did, and had known going into this battle that some of the Slayers would die. It was what a Slayer was destined for, after all. None of that made it any easier. "How's Kennedy?" she asked, not wanting to dwell on what had been lost.

"Fine. We're going back to Brazil tomorrow morning."

"Good. I meant good that Kennedy's okay. Not in a 'get out of here now Willow' kind of way."

Willow chuckled. "I knew what you meant. Besides, pretty much all the Slayers should be fine within the next could of days, and you'll be able to head back to Italy. Looking forward to making with the smoochies with that hot new boyfriend you keep telling me about?"

"Yeah. Well, maybe." Buffy sighed, running her hand through her hair. "I don't know."

"Let me guess—Spike's making things all muddled."

"He's human now, Will. That's enough to muddle things on its own."

"Do you need to talk about it?"

Buffy blinked, surprised that Willow was even offering. In all honesty, she probably did need to talk it out with someone, but at the same time she didn't know what she could even say. "Don't you have Slayer healing to be supervising?"

"I told you, everything's fine in that department. A lot of them have already headed back to the Council. My biggest problem now has been keeping Angel's little blue friend busy."

"Illyria? Is she causing some sort of trouble? Because if she is, then we need to…"

"No. No avoidy Buffy. We've barely seen each other in over a year I know, but I'm still your friend, and I'm here for you." Willow sat down on the round couch in the middle of the lobby and patted the cushion beside her. "Come, sit. We'll have friend time."

Buffy wasn't sure she could do this now. Things were too much of a jumbled mess. How could she discuss her feelings with Willow when she couldn't even put them in words in her own mind? "What about Illyria?"

Willow shrugged. "I gave her a Rubik's cube. When I left she was still pondering why a human would find such an object appealing. She hadn't even gotten to the sticking it in her mouth phase."

"Surely she can't stick a whole Rubik's cube in her mouth."

"You'd be surprised. But sit, tell me the current drama that is the life of Buffy Anne Summers."

Buffy sighed, knowing Willow wasn't going to give up. Besides, maybe this _could_ help her sort things out. She sat down beside Willow. "So what do you want to know?"

"Does Spike think you're getting back together with him? Or getting with him at all. I'm still not sure if your past involvement with him requires me to now use a 'back.'"

"Huh?"

"You seem all out of sorts, and I figured Spike, being Spike, would be all over you. Especially since he's human. I bet he's bringing that up every five seconds as the reason why you should be falling all head over heels in love with him now."

Buffy didn't say anything for a moment as she tried to come up with an answer to that. Is that what Willow thought of her relationship with Spike? Something one-sided, something Buffy only fell into because she wasn't thinking clearly and would never, ever go back to again? "No," Buffy said finally. "Really, we've barely even talked about where we stand now romantically. I mean, sometimes I think the feelings are still there for him, but then he pulls back. Which is probably good, because I'm so damn confused right now. I mean, I thought I was moving on, that I'd worked through the pain of losing another person I love, and then he's just here again. How do I reconcile that with the life I've built since Sunnydale? And...and what if we do start again, and I throw away everything I have in Rome only to find out that we still can't work? Can I take that chance?" Buffy stopped, taking in a deep breath.

Willow blinked. "You actually think you might want to be with Spike?"

"That's my problem, Will. I don't know."

"Wow."

"Wow what? Why are you wowing?"

"I'll be honest, Buffy. I never understood why you slept with Spike in the first place, and I didn't understand why you seemed to be letting him close again when everything was happening with the First. I mean, yeah, he had a soul then like Angel, but…"

"He is _not_ like Angel," Buffy snapped. Willow looked at Buffy in surprise at her vehement response, and Buffy had to admit it had shocked her, too. The words had come more like a reflex than a conscious thought. "I…I just mean their two very different men," Buffy said. "And Spike's soul—it wasn't a curse. He earned it, and he did it for me."

"He couldn't have realized the magnitude of what he was doing, Buffy. He just knew that having a soul had worked for Angel, and he figured he'd try it, too."

Buffy's jaw dropped. "How can you say that?"

"Because it's Spike! I mean yeah, as far as evil vampires went, he wasn't one of the worst—well, aside from the whole homicidal rage, likes to kill Slayers thing. But he's still Spike. He's…you're better than that, Buffy."

Buffy pulled back from Willow, her body going rigid. "I used to think that, too. But I was wrong. Spike is one of the most amazing people I know. He'd do anything for someone he cares about, even let himself burn to death in a hell cavern. Tell me what's so unworthy about that, Willow."

"Buffy, I…"

"You don't know him, Willow. I do. I didn't let myself for a long time. I was too afraid of what it would mean to open myself up to him, to let myself know the man that struggled to co-exist with a demon. But I do now, and he is anything but beneath me." Buffy noticed her hands were trembling, a strong emotion coursing through her that she wasn't quite ready to put the name to yet.

"I didn't realize that things were like that between the two of you. I guess… I don't know, I just always thought Spike had some sick fascination with you, and I never quite got your part in it."

"It's not sick. Okay, so maybe he can be a bit of a pervert sometimes…" The corner of Buffy's lip tugged up in a small smile, but she kept from going much further, sobering again instead. "But he loves me, Willow. Or at least he did. Even when I tried to deny it, I knew it. And he proved it to me more than once."

"So what do you want now, Buffy?"

Buffy took a deep breath. "I want…"

"Buffy!"

Buffy felt her insides clench with dread as she saw Angel walk down the stairs towards her and Willow. A voice in the back of her mind informed her quite loudly that _that_ was what she didn't want. She stood, smoothing her clothes with her hands. "Angel."

"I'm just gonna go and um, make sure Illyria hasn't choked on the Rubik's cube," Willow said as she made a quick exit.

Buffy's eyes darted around the lobby. She knew the hotel was filled with people, yet at the moment, she and Angel were alone. She didn't think that seemed quite fair. "Hello, Angel," Buffy said, keeping her voice steady, even.

"Hello, Buffy." He stopped in front of her, his arms crossed, and suddenly Buffy felt very small. She pulled herself up as much as she could.

"I was just here to see how the Slayers are holding up. Willow says they're fine, so I'm going to go…" Buffy didn't want to do this. Not now, not here. Every muscle in Angel's body was tensed for a confrontation, and she didn't have the energy. She started to walk away, but Angel grabbed her arm.

"We need to talk."

"About what?" Buffy asked. His cool fingers felt strange against her skin, and she noted that this was the first time Angel had touched her and she'd felt no spark.

"You know what."

"The weather?"

"Don't try to be flippant about this, Buffy. We need to talk about Spike."

Buffy sighed, pulling herself out of Angel's grasp. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Spike's human."

"Gee, Angel, that's for the newsflash. I hadn't picked up on that."

"I wasn't finished. Spike's human, and that's a bad thing."

"How? How is it bad? The Powers that Be made him human, Angel—I think they knew what they were doing."

"It wasn't them! Dammit, Buffy, you're acting like a child."

Buffy gaped. "_Me_? I'm acting like a child? What about you? You're sulking like a five year old who had his favorite toy taken away!"

"I am not! You're being incredibly naïve about this. Have you learned nothing in your time as the Slayer? Between Spike and the Immortal, I'm seriously beginning to question your judgment, Buffy."

"Oh my god. I can't believe you're being such an ass because you're _jealous_. No, wait, I can. This isn't about you. It's not about us. It's about Spike."

"That much we agree on—just not what it means. You may think you know Spike, but I've seen sides of him you've never seen. The Powers that Be never would've given him this. There's something sinister behind it. And if he's willing to just sit back and let himself be human now, well, shows how much he really cares about you."

"What in the world are you talking about? What do you expect him to do, go find Drusilla to re-sire him? The Powers did this, Angel, end of story. It seems to me like what you really care about is that he's the one who was made human and not you."

Angel gritted his teeth as he made his decision of what to say next. It wasn't something he'd ever planned on sharing with Buffy, but he had to say something to make her see reason. "I was human once, Buffy."

"Well, duh. I didn't think you were born a vampire."

"No. I mean a few years ago. My blood mixed with the blood of a demon with regenerative powers and I was human."

Buffy took a step back from him. "When? Why didn't I know about this?"

"You did."

"I did not! I think I would remember it if you were human, Angel."

Angel shook his head. "You don't remember it because I made sure you didn't. As a human, I was weak, and I couldn't protect you. I went to these oracles, asked them if me being human could hurt you. They told me you were going to die, and if I was a vampire, I might be able to protect you. So I had the day erased. We were together for that day, and it was the best day of my existence, but I loved you enough to realize that protecting you was more important than anything else."

Buffy walked backwards, sitting back down on the couch as the world spun around her. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Why had Angel told her this? Did he honestly think it would make her distrust Spike? "How…could you have done that?" Buffy asked.

"I had to! They told me you would die." Much to Angel's surprise, Buffy began to laugh, although the sound of it bordered on hysterical. He frowned. "What?"

"I _did_ die, you bastard. I faced a hellgod who wanted to bleed my sister dry, and had to throw myself off a fucking tower. You didn't protect me, Angel. You sat back and ignored everything while I died."

"Hey, I had things going on here that…"

"Were easier if you were still the vampire with the soul. The great champion of the people. If you gave up your humanity, it wasn't about me, so don't pretend like it was."

"You don't get what I'm telling you, Buffy."

Buffy stood again, and the look in her eyes was enough to almost scare Angel. "Then explain it to me. Since you apparently know what I need so much more than I do. You just tell me right now what I'm supposed to think."

"Buffy…"

"No! Don't you talk to me like I'm a fucking child! You don't get to do that, Angel. Not anymore." Buffy knew she was crying, and she hated it, but she couldn't stop. She took some solace in the fact that at least they were primarily angry tears. "You tell me what the _fucking_ point is to all of this!"

"Spike accepting this the way he is is dangerous! Vampires don't just become human. There has to be consequences—bad ones. I realized that, and I gave up everything to make things right again. The fact that he isn't willing to even consider any of this shows that he has to have some kind of ulterior motive."

"Can you hear yourself? Do you realize how convoluted that logic is? Or the lack of logic anyway."

"It's the truth, whether you want to face it or not."

Buffy balled her fists beside her, trying to calm herself enough to come up with something to say. She felt as if her whole world had been turned upside down, and she didn't know how to deal with any of it.

As it turned out, she didn't have to. Right as she opened her mouth to speak, the doors to the Hyperion burst open, and a young man she didn't recognize came in.

Angel, on the other hand, obviously did. His eyes widened, and he stepped back from Buffy. "Connor—what are you doing here?"

Connor said nothing. Instead he responded by punching Angel as hard as he could, sending the vampire flying backwards.

Buffy watched as Angel landed sprawled on the ground, Connor standing beside her, seething with rage. She stepped back, realizing things were about to get ugly.

At least she'd have something else to focus on than the day Angel had taken away from her.

* * *

Thank you so much to everyone who has reviews. This story has been really difficult for me to write, and the encouragement has helped so much.

I do want to note, however, that a few people need to read a little more carefully. It seems that some people are putting season 6 style intentions on Buffy, and that's not what I'm doing here. Pay close attention to her thoughts and her actions, not what Spike has to say about her. They're both misinterpreting things, and letting their own insecurities color their reactions to each other. Buffy is not expecting Spike to follow her around or be at her beck and call. Quite the opposite, actually. She hasn't rejected him, nor has he rejected her. They're both very unsure of themselves, and they're treading lightly. This isn't the kind of story you can skim. I have a lot of subtle, little details that point to their actual emotional states, and that's what's most telling right now. Although hopefully Buffy's conversation with Willow in this chapter made what she's feeling a little more clear.

Also, just to clear something up, Spike was never suicidal. He thought he would die in the battle with W&H, but he didn't want to. There's a difference.

And no, this does not belong in the Angel section. Angel is in it, yes, but he was also a character on Buffy. Buffy is the primary character, there are just some Angel scenes. I know where the plot is going, and I know how to categorize my own story.


	8. Chapter Eight

Angel lay on the floor of the Hyperion lobby, dazed. He hadn't expected Connor to come there, and he certainly hadn't expected Connor to punch him. And hard at that. The kid was strong. Even as Angel winced in pain from pulling himself off the ground, he had a bit of fatherly pride over that. "What was that for?" Angel asked his son, wiping blood off his mouth.

"You sold me out!" Connor yelled.

"What?"

"Those 'people' you so happily signed me over to—the ones you let fuck with my mind—they were Wolfram and Hart lackeys. They weren't my parents. They didn't even _think_ they were my parents. It was all arranged so that they could get to you, and you let them! You sold me to _evil_ without a single care to whether or not I was okay!"

"That's not true! I checked on you, made sure you were with a family."

"Did you make sure it wasn't an evil family? They're Wolfram and Hart, for Christ's sake! Did it not even enter your mind that maybe they were screwing you over?"

"It's not like I had much of a choice!" Angel yelled. "In case you've forgotten, you about to go all suicide bomber on me!"

"I woke up this morning to my mother trying to kill me! I had to fight back! I had to…" A sob choked in Connor's throat, and he fell to his knees.

Buffy watched for a moment as Angel tried to comfort his broken son before she slipped out the door.

* * *

Spike opened his front door and immediately found his arms full of teary Buffy. "Let me guess—Angel?" 

Buffy looked up at him and nodded. "I was in the car for a while, trying to make myself stop crying before I came in, but then I decided what I really wanted was for you to comfort me. And I know that's selfish of me, but…"

"Shh. Not selfish, luv. I'm more than willing to comfort you." Spike led her over to the couch, and Buffy surprised him by curling up in his lap, her head resting on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the feel of having her so close, even if it was only like this. "You wanna talk about it, kitten?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, but…can I just cry right now?"

"Course you can. I'm right here for you."

Buffy buried her face against him, his strong embrace letting her feel like it was all right for her to be vulnerable. His hands stroked her hair and back as his soft words of comfort rumbled in his chest. She realized in a sudden flash of insight that _this_ is what she'd wanted from him when she'd first come back from Heaven. She'd been too afraid then to admit to needing this, too afraid to accept anything from him but violent sex. She wasn't going to shy away from the comfort he could give now. In retrospect, she didn't know what she'd been so scared of. It was freeing.

After a while she looked up, meeting Spike's warm blue eyes. "Angel never loved me," Buffy said softly, the statement bringing forth fresh tears, though not like the flood they had been earlier.

Spike raised a scarred eyebrow. Those were words he'd never expected to hear coming from Buffy. "Why do you say that?"

"He…he was human once. Something about demon blood regenerating him. I was there—it was right after he came to Sunnydale that Thanksgiving to stalk me, and I'd gone to LA to talk to him about it. He told me today that we got together then, but some oracles told him I was going to die. He had them turn back the day so he'd still be a vampire, and I wouldn't remember anything."

"Him being human was going to kill you?"

"No. All I can think is they must've meant what happened with Glory. They told him if he was still a vampire, he'd have a chance at protecting me."

Spike's whole body tensed, and Buffy saw the anger clearly on his face. "He knew you were going to die?"

"Apparently."

Spike started to get up, but Buffy held him in place. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"To kill him," Spike replied matter-of-factly.

"Spike!"

"He let you die, Buffy! He claimed to love you, and he left you to die without so much as a warning!"

"I know! Hence the earlier 'Angel never loved me,' statement. But killing him won't make anything any better."

"See, that's where we disagree."

Buffy playfully slapped his chest. "Behave. Besides, when I left things were bad enough that he could be dusty now anyway."

"Don't go getting my hopes up like that, woman. What's going on over there?"

"Angel's son…Connor? Anyway, turns out Wolfram and Hart set him up with a dummy family to fool Angel. I think the guy had to kill his fake mother this morning."

Spike's eyes grew wide. "Wow. Angel's just screwing everyone over these days. Were they fighting?"

"Connor punched him to make his entrance, then there was some yelling, but by the time I left he was just crying."

"Poor kid. He's had it rough up to now anyway. Wesley spilled most of the story to me once in the middle of one of his benders. Wasn't pretty. And now this on top of it…"

"Yeah. I'm thinking serious psychological trauma for lil' Angel."

Spike relaxed some, folding his arms around Buffy. "How are you feeling about all of this?"

"I don't know. Even when I'd really grown past what I had with Angel, I still clung to the belief that what we'd had had been real. Like sixteen-year-old Buffy was still inside of me, and she didn't want to let go. But this… I mean, maybe if he had really done something to protect me, I could have accepted his reason. But he didn't. Hell, the next time I saw him, he told me to stay in Sunnydale because LA was his town."

"Wanker."

Buffy chuckled at Spike's simple response. She knew he could've said—and probably wanted to say—a whole lot more, but the way he was patiently sitting there, watching her, let her know he was giving her the floor so she could vent her own feelings. His anger at Angel was still there, right under the surface, but she needed to get this out, and he wasn't going to let her.

"Do you know what the worst part of it is? I think I knew. Sort of anyway. It didn't click until after Angel told me, but I kept having these dreams, starting right after when I came back from LA that time. I'd dream Angel and I were in an apartment together, or that we were standing on the pier, kissing in the sunlight. I was always happy in those dreams, and I felt like he was, too. Later, when I saw the inside of the apartment he lived in before the Hyperion for the first time, it registered that it was the same one from my dream, but I dismissed it. Years of Slayer dreams make déjà vu really common, you know? But I think now that I was remembering parts of that day." Buffy was quiet for a moment before she spoke again. "We were happy. But it wasn't enough for him. _I_ wasn't enough for him. I'm never enough for anyone."

"You were always enough for me."

"No I wasn't. I never gave you enough, Spike."

Spike grasped her shoulders and turned her to look at him. "Hey. Listen to me. You gave me more than enough, Buffy. All I asked you for was crumbs, remember? And yeah, you may not have given me the whole bread loaf, but I think I got more than the crumbs."

"I think I gave you the stale crust," Buffy muttered.

Spike chuckled. "You gave me more than that, pet. Those nights you let me hold you—and that last night in Sunnydale when you let me make love to you the way I'd always wanted to—that was more than stale bread crust, and a hell of a lot more than crumbs."

"I told you I love you, too."

"Yeah, you did."

Buffy settled back down against his chest as they both grew silent, letting the moment stand. And then it hit her. _This_ was love. Not the play she'd acted through with Angel, where everything was romanticized and Shakespearean. Not what she'd had with Riley where she searched only for stability and comfort. It was this. She and Spike had torn each other apart time and time again, both done things that still horrified her to think about, and yet here they were. She needed strength now, and he was giving it to her, no questions asked and demanding nothing from her in return. Good, bad, it didn't matter. He was here. He loved her, and he was _here_.

She realized it now, although with what she'd come to associate with her lot in life, it was a little late in coming. She'd let him go when she shouldn't have, and now they'd both moved on. She'd have to go back to her life in Italy and leave him here with his life in LA. Then this would be gone. She clutched his shirt tightly in her fists, needing the contact with him more than anything.

Spike stroked her back, figuring the realization of what she'd lost with Angel was finally really hitting her. He'd always known his grandsire was a moron, but to do this… To have Buffy and let her go… And for what? If he knew Angel as well as he thought he did, Spike would bet that whatever the motive was behind Angel's actions, it was a selfish one, even if he tried to make it count towards his carefully cultivated long-suffering hero image. Spike knew he'd give up his own newfound humanity in a second if someone told him it was the only way to keep Buffy alive, but he certainly wouldn't follow that up by turning around and abandoning her. That only made sense in the way that didn't. You didn't do that to someone you loved. You didn't leave them to die.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, with Buffy in his arms crying so hard her whole body shook, but he let her stay there as long as she needed, even after his leg started to cramp and his arm tingled from poor circulation. Finally, she looked up at him, her face red and splotchy, but her eyes no longer forming tears. "I'm sorry I fell apart like that," she said, her voice scratchy from a now-raw throat.

"Don't be. I'm always happy to be your shoulder to cry on, Buffy. You know that."

"Yeah, I do," she admitted. "I got your shirt all wet…"

"Pity, too, since it's not like I have a million other black t-shirts."

Buffy smirked. "Smart ass."

"It's cute, too, y'know."

"So I've noticed."

There was a hint of mischief in her eyes when she spoke. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't want to ruin the moment the way he feared that would. He didn't have that with her anymore. Instead, he looked away from her, and Buffy stood up, stretching her arms.

"Do you think maybe I could take a shower?" she asked.

"Of course, pet. Want me to find something for you change in to afterwards? I think I have some sweats."

"That would be great."

"I'll be right back." Spike went into his bedroom, reemerging a couple minutes later with a t-shirt ad sweatpants for Buffy. He'd changed his shirt during that time as well, though the only way she could tell was by the fact that the one he was wearing now was dry.

"Thanks," Buffy said as she took the clothes from him. "I'll be out soon."

"Take as long as you need."

Buffy gave him a warm smile before going into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Spike sat back on the couch and turned on the television, hoping it would take his mind off thoughts of wet, naked Buffy in his apartment.

* * *

Buffy wondered if it should feel strange to be standing in Spike's shower. It didn't, and she had a feeling she'd be a lot more uncomfortable showering at the Hyperion. She felt relaxed, and was glad that Spike seemed okay with her staying with him while she was in LA. 

She couldn't help but smirk at the bottles of KMS color vitality blonde shampoo and blonde treatment, complete with weathered but visible tags that announced their salon origin. The bottles boasted that their contents would "control unwanted yellow, warm, and brassy tones" as well as "balance moisture while adding shine and body." Leave it to the Big Bad to secretly care about that.

Despite telling Spike she'd be out soon, she stayed in the shower for as long as the water was warm, enjoying the feel of it cascading down her skin and easing her tension. This day had been hard for her, but at the same time it had felt cathartic, at least where her relationship with Angel was concerned. For the first time since she was sixteen years she could honestly say that her love for him was in the past. She'd loved him in the deepest way her young mind could conceive of, and even with all the pain that love had brought her, she still couldn't say she necessarily regretted it. But she no longer looked at it from the naïve eyes of childhood. Angel had not been her knight in shining armor. They hadn't shared some grand love that had transcended all. It had merely been what it was, and now it was over.

Maybe Angel did love her, in his way, but she knew now it wasn't real. It was something that faded with time and distance. He could put a warning of her death out of his mind because he was "busy." She tried to imagine Spike doing the same thing and couldn't. He'd stood beside her in that final battle with Glory, willing to give his life for her and Dawn out of nothing more than love. He hadn't even had a soul.

Buffy realized something about herself then, about why she'd feared Spike's love the way she had. It all boiled down to a simple question: If he could love her, why couldn't Angelus? She'd known the answer to that all along, and she hadn't wanted to face it. It had been easier for her to challenge Spike's love than Angel's, and that's what she'd done. But now she looked back on it with clear retrospective vision and knew the truth.

She turned off the now-cool water and stepped out of the shower, using a towel to rub the excess water from her hair before wrapping it around her. She did feel better now, cleansed in more ways that one. She dried off and slipped into Spike's clothes, deciding in favor of forgoing underwear over putting the same pair back on. She hadn't exactly packed for an extended stay when she'd hurried out of Rome to face this last apocalypse, and she was going to need to do a little shopping soon.

Buffy frowned. How long was she going to stay here? She'd only talked to Dawn once since she got here, letting her know she'd live thought this battle, but not saying much else. She should be taking care of her, being a better sister than this. She really didn't have to stay here with Spike. Giles would be there soon, and he could figure out what was going on without Buffy being present.

But Buffy decided that wouldn't be right, just leaving Spike alone with Giles like that. She'd stay in LA until they had a clearer idea of what had happened to Spike. It was the least she could do.

She walked out of the bathroom, smirking when she saw what Spike had been doing to pass the time while she was in the shower. "Video games, huh?"

Spike paused the game and looked up at Buffy. "Yeah. Got it after my hands were chopped off. Physical therapy and all that. Don't know why I keep playing though. That damn barrel-throwing monkey doesn't fight fair."

"Wait, did you just say your hands were chopped off?"

"Oh. Yeah. That crazy Slayer of yours—Dana—didn't seem to think I needed them anymore."

Buffy winced. "God, Spike, I'm so sorry."

He shrugged. "It's all right. I've had worse. Besides, they got stuck right back on, and they're as good as ever."

"Glad to hear that. Those are some damn talented hands."

Spike raised his eyebrows, but Buffy didn't blush or try to back out of her statement. Instead that mischievous glint from earlier returned to her eyes. Didn't she have any idea what it did to him when she was like this?

Apparently not, he decided, when she sat down beside him and grabbed his arm, running her fingers across his skin. "Where did she cut it off?" Buffy asked.

"About here," Spike replied, pointing with his other hand to a spot on his arm.

Buffy touched him again, and Spike took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. All she was doing was touching his arm, and he was nearing his limit. Why did she still have to have such a strong effect on him?

"There's no scar," Buffy said.

"No. The Wolfram and Hart shamans saw to that."

Spike had thought her touching him had been hard to handle, but it was nothing compared to what she did next. Buffy leaned down and pressed small kisses against his skin, tracing the line where the scar would've been had there been one. She flipped his arm over and completed the circle on the other side, and Spike couldn't help but moan.

The sound made a rush of desire shoot through Buffy. She wasn't quite sure what had possessed her to do that, but she'd reveled in the feel of his skin against her lips. But it hadn't been enough. She wanted more, wanted to feel him inside of her again. However, desire aside, she couldn't let things go that far when she didn't intend to stay. It wasn't fair to Spike. She'd used him in the past, and she wasn't going to do it again. That's what had really been "wrong" about their relationship before—her own selfish, uncaring behavior.

She sat up straight, pulling away from him a bit. "I'm getting sorta hungry. Wanna order a pizza?"

Spike's first thought was somewhere in the neighborhood of "huh?" Was she trying to be a cruel tease? She'd just done whatever the hell _that_ was to his arm, and now she was talking about pizza? Did she still want him, was she playing with his head, or did she honestly not know how wild she could drive him?

He guessed it didn't matter. It wasn't like Buffy was going to throw away her life in Italy and her hot romance with the Immortal to come share his tiny bed ins his dark, basement-like apartment.

"Pizza sounds great, pet."

* * *

Review please. Reviews are what inspire me to write. Without them, there is no story, because thenI'll think no one wants to read it… 


	9. Chapter Nine

**AN: **I told myself I wasn't going to do any more of these author's notes explaining this fic, but I think this needs to be said. I'm putting at the top because I really want people to read it before they make any more comments. Deal?

First off, I clearly stated at the beginning of this fic that the characterization of Angel was one that some people might not like. If you can't deal with how I have him, then, please, don't complain to me about it. I warned you. It's not my fault you didn't heed said warning. Also, most of the comments in the last chapter about Angel were from Buffy's perspective, after she'd been given a sort of off version of the events from Angel. Just because a character thinks something doesn't mean it's the gospel truth of the fic. I know that's not how things went exactly in "I Will Remember You," and I know the characterization there is a bit off. Buffy and Angel are both upset, and neither one of them are thinking clearly. Please, pay attention to the context in which things are said before you gripe at me about them. It's like the statements prior to a documentary: what's said here does not necessarily reflect my thoughts or feelings, etc.

Secondly, if one more person tells me to get on with the Spuffy, I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. There are a million fics where they jump into each other's arms five minutes after being reunited, and that's not what I'm doing here. Buffy and Spike have issues to work through if they want a lasting relationship, and that's what I'm dealing with. If you can't be patient and deal with things like oh, say a plot, I suggest you read something else. I really don't need people telling me how to write my story. Unless you're psychic and know exactly where I'm going with this, it's really not helpful. I had certain goals in mind when I started this fic, and one of them was to allow Spike and Buffy to build a real relationship. And I'm sorry, but when I post a chapter that's pretty much all about Buffy realizing how much Spike loves her and then I'm told "not Spuffy enough," it just annoys me. If all Spuffy means to you is sex, then you're reading the wrong story.

Okay, I'm really hoping I won't have to do this again. I know you're getting sick of reading these notes, and I'm getting tired of writing them. I have had a lot of wonderful reviewers, and I'm really grateful to everyone who reads this, but I do want to get the point across that this is my story, and I'm going to do things my way. Input on how I "should" be writing this story is not helpful. I know where I'm going with this, and it's really not any place as horrible as some people seemed to have assumed.

And now back to our regularly scheduled chapter…

* * *

There was something off about sitting there with Buffy, on his couch, eating pizza while they watched television. Spike couldn't quite place what it was, only that it wasn't normal.

Then it hit him.

They were relaxed. Even with the events of the day, the atmosphere in his living room now was calm. There was no bickering and no great fog of angst clinging to them. They were sharing a quiet evening in.

It was like a dream come true. Aside from the fact that she wasn't actually his girlfriend, and he would lose this as soon as she decided to go back to Rome and that poncey git the Immortal, of course. He decided not to think about that. Now felt good. He wasn't going to ruin it by dwelling on tomorrow.

He glanced over at Buffy. Her hair was still slightly damp, her face was free of make-up, and she was wearing an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. But she was smiling—really smiling—and he decided she'd never looked more beautiful. He still loved her as much as ever—more so if that was even possible—but he fought back any urge to actually speak the words. Even if she had meant it in the Hellmouth, things had changed since then. She couldn't still feel that way. Why would she love him when she had the supposedly perfect lover waiting for her back home?

Still, a few times that day he'd sworn the look in her eyes had been love. But he couldn't let himself believe that, no matter how much he wanted to. He'd waited desperately for Buffy's love in the past, and it had left him with nothing but heartache. He couldn't put himself through that again, especially now when he knew that it would be hopeless. Instead, he'd enjoy this little time he had left with her. It was more than he'd ever expected to get, after all.

They finished eating, and Buffy slid over on the couch, resting her head on his shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and nervous. "Is this okay?"

Spike put his arm around her. "Yeah, it's fine."

She smiled at him before getting comfortable and turning her attention back to the show. Spike didn't know what made her want to be close to him like this, but he didn't care. It was what he wanted, too, and even the little bit of contact was nice.

Neither one said a word as they simply enjoyed the closeness they knew would be all too fleeting.

* * *

It had taken some sedatives he'd gotten from the Slayer General Hospital set up in his hotel, but Angel had finally gotten Connor to calm down. He was sleeping now, and Angel decided to leave him alone for a while, possibly get some rest himself.

Angel found an empty room and decided to stay there for the night. He was beginning to think that tearing his room to shreds had probably not been the most productive way to deal with his anger. It hadn't left him with much. The room he was in now was similar to his own, but different enough to set things off a bit. He lay on the bed, staring into nothing as his thoughts swarmed through his head.

He couldn't even bring himself to think really about Connor. He had messed that up more than he'd even dreamed possible, and all he could do was hate himself for not reading the fine print, for trusting Wolfram and Hart. He should've known that they'd do something to trick him.

But the thought that really made him sick now was the knowledge that, at the time, he hadn't really cared. He'd seen an opportunity, and he'd taken it. He'd believed himself to be helping his son along with the bargain, but that hadn't been all for him. He'd wanted to bring down Wolfram and Hart, and they'd offered him his in. He'd taken it without any real thought to the consequences.

Not so bright in retrospect.

He couldn't deal with it. Nothing had gone right, and he couldn't even wrap his head around how much worse he'd made things. Sure, he'd brought down the building, but, well, they'd certainly recovered nicely from that zombie incident… And this was only the Los Angeles branch. Wolfram and Hart was everywhere, in this dimension and in others. He'd done nothing but hurt those closest to him.

And Buffy… How much had he messed _that_ up? He winced as he replayed their conversation in his mind. God, what could she be thinking right now? He hadn't said anything the way he'd meant to, and he'd just made it all sound worse than it really was. Or had he? A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that Buffy wouldn't exactly have appreciated his "I have to not be human so you won't die protecting me" excuse either. And now, looking back on it, it seemed weak even to him. He was the one who'd gotten hurt that day by trying to protect Buffy. And when he really thought about it, he knew she'd put him behind her duty if need be. She had sent him to Hell…

He wasn't sure he could handle thinking about her either. He was second guessing himself more than he ever had in the past, and he knew it came from a feeling of being lost. When he'd seen Connor today, sobbing for the loss of what he'd been given and then had so cruelly ripped away, Angel had felt everything crumble. His son was broken and it was his fault.

He'd destroyed everything around him, hurt everyone.

He squeezed his eyes tight, wanting the thoughts, the memories, the fears to go away. But they were screaming inside his head, forcing him to take a long hard look at parts of himself he'd wanted to keep forever buried.

He opened his eyes again when he felt a hand run across his cheek. When he saw who was looking down at him, he smiled.

Cordelia… She was here again. He'd come to the conclusion after the last time that he'd finally lost his sanity and was hallucinating, but he didn't care. When he saw her, she felt so real, and it was good enough for him. Even if it was only an illusion, he had her back for a little while at least.

"Rough day, champ?"

"Cordy…" Angel said softly, reaching his hand out to her.

Cordelia lay down on the bed beside him, resting against his chest. "I'm here with you for now, Angel. We don't have to talk about it, and you don't have to worry. I know things seem impossible right now, but it's going to be okay."

"Do you promise?" Angel asked, his voice small and belying his fear. He'd never felt quite this broken before, even when he'd lived in alleys feeding off of rats. He'd lost it all…

"Yes. I won't lie to you, Angel. You have a lot of hard things you're going to have to face, a lot of mistakes you're going to have to own up to. But they don't matter right now. You need to rest, and I'm here to make sure you can."

"Will you still be here when I wake up?"

"I don't know. I want to be, but I'm not sure I can."

Angel didn't ask why. "Can you try to be?"

"Yeah, I will. But sleep now. Things will be clearer if you rest."

Angel nodded, his eyes sliding shut. He did feel better, just having her here. Her presence this time was soothing. He wrapped his arms around her, drifting off to sleep with Cordelia there to hold.

* * *

Buffy was tired. She'd seen Spike try to stifle a couple of yawns, and she knew he was, too, but going to sleep meant, well, sleeping arrangements. She was sure he didn't have a guest room tucked away somewhere, which meant the only bed was the tiny one in the bedroom. Logically, one of them would take the bed and the other would take the couch.

She felt a little guilty for thinking it, but she didn't want logic. She knew nothing could really happen here. She'd already made up her mind that despite the fact part of her still wanted Spike, she couldn't have him. Sex would only complicate things between them further, and neither one of them needed that.

That didn't mean she couldn't sleep next to him, or so Buffy decided. Those nights in Sunnydale when he'd held her had been some of the best of her life, and she wanted that again, even if it was for only one last time. "I'm tired," she told him.

Spike looked over at her, regarding her for a moment before he said, "Yeah, me, too." He pulled away from her, trying to mask it with a stretch, but she knew what he was doing. He was trying to distance himself from her. "Bed's not great, but it's better than the couch, so you can have it. I'll sleep out here."

Buffy shook her head. "No."

"No? Well, if you really want the couch, then I guess…"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you…" Spike trailed off as realization hit him. "Buffy, no. Just…not that, okay?"

Buffy reached out, resting her hand on his leg. "I'm not asking you for anything big, Spike. I just…I'd sleep better tonight if I wasn't alone. I think you would, too."

Spike let out a heavy sigh. He would sleep better. But it also wouldn't be enough for him, he knew. He wanted her so badly it made every bit of him ache. To hold her and not be allowed to love her… Still, he realized it was all he was being offered, all he'd ever be offered again. He could sleep with her in his arms, could sleep with her scent surrounding him. He'd want more, but he knew this would _have_ to be enough. It was all he was getting. "Right, well, bed's sorta small…"

"So was that cot in my basement."

Spike nodded, nothing else for him to say.

Buffy pointed towards the bathroom. "I'm just going to get ready for bed, and I'll be right in."

Another nod, and Spike went into the bedroom. When Buffy came to join him, he was lying on top of the covers, wearing a pair of sweatpants similar to the ones he'd given her. She wondered if he still slept nude when he was alone, and felt herself blush slightly. Even with the sweatpants, though, she was able to see his chest, and it made her mouth water. Why did he still have to be so gorgeous? It only made this harder.

Spike pushed himself off the bed. "I'll be right back," he told her before going into the bathroom himself.

Buffy walked to the foot of the bed and stopped. It seemed even smaller now as the realization of what she'd asked Spike for hit her. She was going to be sleeping next to him tonight. There would be no way they wouldn't be touching each other. It seemed more real now, as the image of her in bed with a half-dressed Spike came into her mind, and she had a moment of panic.

She took a deep breath. She wasn't going to do this. She could be mature. She wanted Spike here with her, and she'd meant it when she'd told him she'd sleep better if she wasn't alone. She started to lie down on top of the blankets, but then she decided she wasn't going to do this half way. She slipped under the covers, waiting for Spike.

She could hear the sink running in the bathroom, and it struck her at how _domestic_ this was. This is what it would be like if they were a couple, and she wasn't sure what to call the feelings that thought made rise in her. She pushed them away, deciding that she might analyze them later. The bathroom door creaked open, and Buffy's heart thumped in her chest. This was it. Any moment now, Spike would be in this bed with her. She almost panicked, considered running.

"I can still sleep on the couch."

His words made up her mind. She didn't want him that far away, simple as that. "No, don't."

Spike didn't say anything else as he got into the bed beside her. He turned his back towards her, and Buffy bit her lip. This wasn't right. She tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to look at her. She could see the conflict in his eyes as he finally decided to face her. Buffy moved up against him, and he stiffened for a moment before wrapping his arms around her.

It was then that Buffy realized there was a factor here she hadn't counted on. Spike was alive. She'd known it, sure, but she hadn't counted on what it would mean. He was holding her, and he was so _warm_. He was breathing, and it wasn't his usually artificial breathing he'd always done before. She could feel his warm breath as it brushed over her, could hear his heart pounding in his chest. She realized from its quick beat that he was just as nervous as she was, and that soothed her somehow.

Buffy decided she could think in the morning, if she wanted to. Right now, she was going to sleep in the arms of a human Spike. It was warm and comforting, and it was where she wanted to be. Neither one of them said anything, the only sound in the room their synched breathing. Spike's hand was lightly stroking her back, and Buffy smiled.

She let the rhythm of Spike's heartbeat lull her to sleep.

* * *

I do appreciate reviews, and would like it if you left some. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. 


	10. Chapter Ten

Angel woke up alone, devoid of anything to let him know Cordelia had been there other than the empty ache in his chest her absence caused. It wasn't a surprise, but that didn't make it any less painful.

He got out of the bed and went downstairs, noticing how much quieter the hotel was now. Willow was behind the front desk, and Angel walked up to her, leaning on the counter. "Where is everyone?"

Willow looked up. "Oh. Hi, Angel. Most of the Slayers are gone. A few are still recuperating, and I decided to stay and oversee things since Buffy is…too busy with other things."

"Did she go back to Rome?"

Willow shifted nervously in her chair. She'd rather just stay out of whatever was going on with Angel, Buffy, and Spike. "No. She's still in LA." Willow hoped he'd let her leave it at that.

He didn't. "Where is she? She's not staying here with the other Slayers."

"No, she isn't."

"She's with Spike, isn't she?"

"I don't know. She didn't tell me where she was going when she left." That was the truth, after all. It didn't matter that where she'd gone was obvious to almost anyone.

"Dammit. She shouldn't be alone with him."

Willow honestly didn't understand what kept drawing Buffy to Spike. She didn't really dislike him so much as it just wasn't the kind of relationship she would've chosen for her friend. Still, she didn't think that Angel had much of a right to try to interfere with Buffy's decisions. He'd done enough damage already. "Spike isn't going to hurt her, Angel. He's not even a vampire anymore."

"That doesn't make him no longer potentially dangerous."

Willow was tired. She'd been working to heal Slayers and clean up the mess left over from yet another apocalypse for days now, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with one of Angel's fits. "Look, I don't know what's going on with Spike and Buffy, and I can't say I necessarily approve of whatever it is, but I _can_ say that he never snapped the neck of someone I cared about."

Angel stepped back. "I didn't have a soul then."

"Yeah, and when Spike didn't have a soul, he still managed to protect Dawn and show kindness to Tara, among other things." Willow smiled inwardly when Angel winced. "Look, if you're trying to find support from me, you're not going to get it. I accepted you in Sunnydale for Buffy's sake, but if the topic for discussion is who I trust more, you or Spike, it's going to be Spike."

Angel's expression hardened. "Fine. I'm going upstairs to check on my son."

As Angel left the lobby, Willow thought about how quickly she'd jumped to Spike's defense. From that, she remembered how upset Buffy had been over what Willow had said earlier about Spike. Willow realized with a bit of shame how unfair she'd been the day before. She didn't get it with Spike, that much was true, but she suspected Buffy still had feelings for him—maybe even loved him. She owed it to her friend to make an attempt to understand like she should have years ago. She'd let Buffy down, and while she couldn't make up for that, she could do something now before she lost her friend completely.

Willow stood up, deciding there was no time like to present to start making amends.

* * *

Buffy opened her eyes slowly, noting how well rested she felt. Nightmares had plagued her since she'd left what used to be Sunnydale behind. Almost every night, she'd been forced her to relive the same moment over and over. But they hadn't come this time, her mind letting her sleep peacefully instead. She looked up, her gaze locking with intense blue eyes, and she knew why the nightmares had gone.

_No reason to dream of someone dying when you're sleeping in their arms…_

"Sleep well, kitten?"

Spike's voice was deep and husky from sleep, and from her position on his chest, Buffy could feel the vibrations coursing through her entire body. "Mmm…very well." She nuzzled herself closer to Spike and pressed a small kiss against his neck.

Spike nudged Buffy away from him as he scrambled to get out of the bed. He took a few steps back, putting distance between them. "What time is Giles getting here?" he asked.

Buffy's good mood immediately plummeted. She hadn't been completely awake when she'd responded to Spike the way she had, the feel of being in his warm arms overriding her brain. She sat up, clutching the sheet in her hands. "Spike…I didn't mean…"

"Yeah, I know you didn't, so let's not push it anymore, all right? Let's just focus on business. What time?"

"Some time this afternoon. He had a hard time booking a decent flight on such short notice. I gave him your address, and he said he'd take a cab when he gets to LA."

"We just wait here for him then?"

"I guess."

"You and me, alone in the apartment."

"We've been alone in here since last night, Spike. Who else would be here?"

Spike wasn't sure he could handle this. It had been difficult enough being around her the night before, but after this morning, it was going to be torture. He'd been awake for at least an hour before Buffy had woken up, watching her, holding her, drowning in her. That alone had been enough to almost drive him to the edge, and the soft kiss she'd given him had all but pushed him the rest of the way. "I need to take a shower," he announced, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

Spike left the room quickly, and Buffy buried her face in her hands. She knew she shouldn't have pushed the boundaries between them this morning, but Spike had never reacted to her touch that way before. He didn't even want to be alone with her. She'd never seen him closed off like this, never seen him guarding his emotions so carefully. She missed the way he used to look at her, the way she could always see his love, whether she'd wanted to see it in the past or not.

But what could she reasonably expect other than this distance? She'd told him that whatever they had in the past was over, that she'd soon be going back to Rome. How could she long for him to feel for her the way he once did if she still wouldn't reciprocate? She'd done that to him once before, and she couldn't again. It wasn't fair to him, and she wasn't going to let herself be that person again.

She had had a chance at Spike's love once, and she'd thrown it away. She'd taken it for granted, and now he'd taken it away.

* * *

Spike stood in the bathroom in his jeans, his hair still damp from the cold shower he'd taken. Turns out it was only slightly more effective when you were something other than room temperature. He'd been hoping for better results. Maybe he would have if Buffy hadn't still been only in the next room. In his bed…

He growled in frustration. If she was going to go back to Rome, why didn't she just bloody do it already and let him live in peace?

His reflection was staring at him now, watching him like a voyeur. He didn't like it, didn't like being held up for examination to his own eyes. After so many years without one, it was unsettling, something that shouldn't be there. He barely knew his own face anymore. He toweled off his hair, then looked closer into the mirror, trying to regard his two-dimensional double with a detached eye, relearning the view it gave him. His roots were starting to show and his curls were unruly, but he didn't care. What did it matter if he was presentable anyway? Besides, maybe if he looked like a wreck, Buffy would keep her tempting little hands to herself.

He pulled his t-shirt on over his head, tucking the bottom of it into his jeans. He could hear Buffy in the kitchen, and he took a deep, calming breath. It amazed him how much he wanted to be around her and wanted her far away at the same time. That woman had always been able to wreak havoc on his emotions.

Spike stepped out of the bathroom, watching Buffy as she moved around his tiny kitchen, a small smile tugging at his lips. He knew it wouldn't last, but for a moment he allowed himself to enjoy this domesticity with the woman he loved. "I see you found the coffee."

"Yes." Buffy turned to look at him. "Is this all right?"

"You making coffee? Yeah, it's fine. Make me a cup while you're at it?"

"I don't know about that. I've seen you hyper."

"Come on. Have pity on the man not used to a human body." He gave her a small pout, and Buffy felt her heart flip. It wasn't fair that he was still so damn gorgeous. His curls were free of gel, and their rumpled look was unbelievably sexy. Her fingers ached to have a chance to run through them.

"Fine. But go easy on the sugar. I don't want a repeat of the Triple Expresso Incident."

"Oh please. That was not that bad."

"Your eyes weren't blinking, Spike. And you were doing that thing where you bounce on your toes."

"What thing where I bounce on my toes?"

"It's a thing you do when you're hyper. You kind of rock back and forth."

"I do not."

"Oh you so do."

"I…" A knock at the door the door cut him off. "Is Giles supposed to be here already?"

"No. His plane doesn't land for a little while yet. Are you expecting company?"

"No. You?"

"No." Spike walked to the door, checking through the peephole, a look of surprise and then concern when he saw who it was. "It's Willow."

Buffy frowned. What was Willow doing here? And how did she find this place in the first place? Buffy sighed, figuring Willow must've gotten better at locater spells. "Well, open the door."

Spike did, regarding the witch with an impassive expression. "Red."

"Hi Spike. Long time no see."

"Yeah. Burnin' up and then gettin' stuck in LA as a ghost sort of put a damper on my social life."

"You were a ghost?"

"Long story. So what brings you to my doorstep?"

"I came to see Buffy."

Buffy came around from Spike then, and Willow noticed the casual way Buffy rested her hand on his shoulder. "I'm here. Is there something wrong? Did any of the Slayers…"

"Oh, no, everything's fine. I just…I just wanted to talk to you." Willow glanced apprehensively at Spike, keenly aware of the fact that he hadn't invited her into his apartment.

"Right then," Spike said, sensing Willow's desire to speak to Buffy alone. "There's a bakery down the street. I'll go grab something for breakfast while you two chat."

"Baked goods _and_ coffee? I think you may be pushing your caffeine and sugar intake there, pal," Buffy said, elbowing him in the side lightly. "I'm going to have to tie you down."

"Now now, Slayer, it's not nice to tease a bloke with sweet words like that," Spike said with a wink. He stepped back to both give Willow room to come into the apartment and to avoid Buffy's attempt to smack him. "I'll just go put on my boots, and then I'll get out of your hair."

As Spike went into the bedroom, Buffy motioned for Willow to come in, then shut the door behind her. Willow glanced around, her nervousness apparent. "Not used to seeing Spike live anywhere but a crypt," she said.

"Yeah, well, he's making with the above ground dwelling these days."

Spike came back out of the bedroom then, causing Willow to grow silent again. "Any requests, Buffy?"

She shrugged. "Whatever. You know what I like."

"All right. You kids play nice." He gave Buffy a smile, then left the apartment, locking the door behind him.

"Have a seat," Buffy said, making a sweeping gesture in the direction of the couch before sitting down herself. There was an awkward silence between the two once-close friends before Willow spoke.

"So you and Spike slipped back into it pretty quickly."

"Huh?"

Willow held up her hands. "I'm not being judgey, I promise. I just noticed there how coupley you two were, so soon after reuniting."

"Again, huh? Spike and I aren't a couple."

"Really, I'm not going to judge you over it, Buffy. I mean, that's actually part of the reason why I came today, to apologize for how I acted at the Hyperion yesterday, and tell you that I'm okay with any choices you make regarding Spike. I mean, if he makes you happy, then there's no reason in the world for me to look down on the whole thing."

"I appreciate that, but we're not together. I'm going back to Rome soon."

"Oh," Willow said, her brow wrinkling. The way Spike and Buffy had been when she'd come to the door, she could've sworn they were together. "So why aren't you back with him? I mean, if it's okay for me to ask that…"

"It's just over between us," Buffy said tersely. "I have a life in Rome, he has one here. End of story. So did you come over here just to discuss me and Spike?"

"No. Well, sort of. But I already did that part, I guess." Willow took a deep breath. "I also want to apologize. And I know that saying 'I'm sorry' really isn't enough, but it's all I really know that I can do right now."

Buffy frowned, unsure how to take Willow's sudden apology. "What are you sorry for?"

"For, well, for being a bad friend I guess. I haven't been there for you at all, not this past year, and not for a long time back in Sunnydale either. And…and I know I'm to blame for how messed up your life was and, Buffy, I'm so sorry…"

Buffy watched as Willow's eyes filled with tears, and the sight made her feel conflicted. On the one hand, she wanted Willow to feel guilty. She had been a "bad friend" on more levels than Buffy could even begin to describe. But on the other hand, Buffy didn't really feel the need to hold a grudge. Things had happened that neither woman was proud of, and while Buffy knew she'd never be as close to Willow as she'd once been, she didn't want to push her completely out of her life either. Good or bad, they'd shared too much for that.

"It's okay. You didn't single handedly screw up my life. I'm not going to lie and say you didn't help, but it's all in the past now. And, well, I'm over it. Coming back from heaven was difficult, but I think in the long run, things worked out for the best."

Willow looked up, hopeful. "So you don't hate me?"

"What? No! I never hated you, Will. I was mad, yeah, and you weren't my favorite person there for a while, but I never hated you. You're, well, you're family, and good or bad, I'll always love you."

Willow sniffed. "I'm glad to hear you say that. I thought…well, I thought I'd killed our friendship forever, you know? Like we were just going to drift apart and be that kind of people you see at reunions and you think 'Wow, they were so close in high school, and now look at them!' Although I guess we can't really be those people, since our high school blew up—twice—but you know what I mean."

Buffy smirked. "No, we won't be those people." She was surprised at how true the words sounded to her. No, they weren't going to be as close as they were as kids, but Willow was still her friend. And she'd missed her. It hit Buffy now just how much she'd missed having her around this past year. Buffy reached out, wrapping her arms around Willow in a friendly hug, her eyes tearing up. "I've missed you," she admitted aloud.

Willow returned the hug. "Me, too. You were my best friend, Buffy."

"You, too, Will. You, too."

* * *

I know it's been over a month since I posted anything, but it was really unavoidable. I was finishing up my senior year of college, and I had neither the time nor the energy to devote to fanfiction. I'm sorry I made everyone wait so long. But, I have completed all my finals, managed to get an A in every class this semester, and am graduating this Saturday. So with that behind me, I should have fanfic time once again.

I hope people are still interested in this after its bit of a hiatus. Please leave me a review and let me know if you're still reading, and what you think of this chapter!


	11. Chapter Eleven

Spike had returned with donuts. Buffy wasn't surprised that he'd gotten her favorite. After all, she'd meant it when she told him he knew what she liked.

What did surprise her is that he'd also remembered Willow's. Had Spike honestly paid that much attention back in the Scooby days?

It was quiet around Spike's small table now, none of the three people in the room knowing quite how to start a conversation. Willow had been fiddling through most of the meal, and finally she broke the silence, obviously unable to take it anymore.

"So what are you planning to do now that you're human?" she asked Spike.

Spike shrugged. "Probably the same as I was doing. Fight the good fight and whatnot."

"But won't you have problems with that now that you're not a vampire?" Willow asked. "I mean, the whole demon fighting thing isn't nearly as easy without superpowers, trust me."

Buffy and Spike shared a poignant look, and Spike took a deep breath before he answered, deciding there was no real reason to lie about what he was. "I still have my superpowers."

"Oh." Then Spike's answer sunk in, and Willow did a double take. "Huh?"

"I still have my powers. Well, I can't go all bumpy in the forehead region, but I'm not exactly Average Joe either."

"So you're not…human?"

Spike shrugged. "Don't know what I am. I'm not a vamp. The beating heart's sort of a give-away as far as that goes. Other than that, we're not sure."

Willow turned to Buffy. "Is this why you're still here?"

Buffy nodded. "Giles is on his way to LA. He's going to look over Spike, make with the tests and the research, see what we can figure out."

"I can help," Willow said softly. Then she added more confidently, "Whatever changed you is mystical, so maybe there's something I could find out with magic."

Spike's eyes bulged a little, and Buffy had to repress a laugh. "The last time you worked any mojo on me I was callin' myself 'Randy Giles.'"

Willow held up her hands. "I promise I won't do a spell on you. Just more, take a look at your mystical make up. No changing you into Randy Giles again, I promise."

"Good, cause that was bleedin' disturbing."

"I don't know, I thought you were kinda cute with your little bowtie," Buffy said, lighting kicking him under the table.

"Watch it, Joan," Spike replied, although his response only got a giggle out of Buffy.

Willow watched the two of them interacting. They weren't a couple? Could've fooled her… But she resisted the urge to meddle. If they were meant to be, it would happen. If it wasn't, then it wouldn't. No need for her to give it a push one way or the other. "There are spells to tell if someone is human or demon, and then also what sort of demon they are. They're simple, only surface stuff." She turned to Buffy. "Sort of like that one from way back in the day when we were trying to figure out if Amy's-Mom-in Amy's-Body was a witch."

Buffy nodded. "I remember that." Without even thinking about it, she reached over and took Spike's hand. "Are you sure it wouldn't hurt him, though?"

"Positive. And I'd be extra special careful," Willow assured her. "I've really grown a lot in the past year, Buffy. I don't take the sort of chances I used to. My spells don't go wonky like they did before."

Buffy turned to Spike, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as she did. "What do you want to do?"

"Well, as long as Red doesn't turn me into a newt or some such, I'm game. Like to know what I am, and it could at least give Rupert a place to start looking in those musty old books of his."

"Great!" Willow jumped up. "I'll just find a store around here where I can get what I need, and we'll be all set."

"Do you mind if I go out with you?" Buffy asked. "I sort of didn't pack for a long trip, and I'm just about out of important things—like clean underwear."

Spike glanced down, staring at where his hand was still joined with Buffy. This was all so bizarrely domestic. She was talking about needing to buy underwear while holding his hand like it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn't know how it made him feel exactly, but he didn't pull away from her.

"Sure. Be nice to spend a little time with you," Willow said.

"How about you, Spike. Are you okay here, waiting in case Giles shows up, or…"

"I'm fine, luv. You two go do your shopping."

Buffy gave his hand another squeeze before she pulled away. Spike noted how she never noticed they were holding hands with a start as if it were something out of place. She'd pulled away the same way she'd started the gesture, calmly as if it were ordinary. "We'll be back as soon as we can," she said, standing up.

"Most of the ingredients are pretty commonplace," Willow said, standing, too. "I can probably find most of them in the grocery store."

"Let's get them then," Buffy said. "If we're going to do this, I'd like to do it soon."

"What's the rush?" Spike asked, concern crossing his features.

Buffy turned to him. "I want to know what's going on, Spike. I'm worried about all of this. What if something happens, and it turns out to be unstable, and…"

"I turn back into a vampire?" Spike asked softly. Would she be holding his hand at the breakfast table the way she'd just done if that were the case?

"And you get hurt," Buffy said, finishing the sentence her way.

"Oh."

There was another awkward silence in the room for a moment before Willow said, "So are we going to go? I saw a shopping center on the way over here that should be good for a start."

Buffy nodded. "Let's check it out."

"I've got an extra key," Spike said. "Let me give it to you."

"All right," Buffy said as Spike got up and went into his bedroom. He came back a few moments later, pressing the key into her outstretched hand. She looked down at it, then at him. "Thanks."

Spike nodded and stepped away from her, letting the two women plan their outing.

* * *

Having Buffy out of the apartment made Spike feel both relieved and anxious. On the one hand, without Buffy there sending his emotions into a tizzy, he could relax. On the other hand, he couldn't stop wondering what she was doing now that she was out of his sight. Other than her brief visit to the Hyperion the day before, she'd been with him almost non-stop since he'd come back to life. He'd gotten used to her presence, the feel of having her there with him.

Still, he knew he should get used to _this_. It was going to be his life after she was gone. He'd be alone.

He looked up, startled, when he heard a knock at the door before he remembered that the Watcher was due. He ran his hand through his hair, then approached the door, opening it. "Come in, Rupert."

Giles nodded, walking into Spike's apartment and taking a brief glance around while Spike shut the door behind him. "Is Buffy not here?"

"Nice to see you, too, Rupes."

"I…sorry, that was rude of me. It was a long flight, much of which involved a small child pelting me with peanuts."

Spike raised an eyebrow at Giles's actual apology. "Sounds unpleasant."

"The mother was not much better. Makes me wonder why some people are allowed to spawn." He took a deep breath. "So how are you?"

Spike shrugged. "Alive."

"That's good…or is it?" Giles's brow furrowed.

"It's got its perks. I'm liking the whole sunlight thing. And to answer your earlier question, Buffy's not here. She went shopping with Willow."

"Shopping?"

"For magic supplies," Spike clarified. "Red wants to do some sort of spell to see if I'm human or demon."

"She knows about you retaining your powers then?"

"Yeah. Told her over breakfast." Spike reached out for the bag that Giles had over his shoulder. "Here, let me take that for you."

"Oh. Thank you."

Spike nodded, setting the bag over by the wall. "You can sit on the couch," he offered. "And there's donuts if you're hungry."

"No, I'm quite all right," Giles said, sitting down. He took off his glasses, fiddling with them nervously as he glanced around Spike's apartment again. He hadn't expected to be alone with the former vampire like this, and he didn't much know what to say or do. Their relationship in Sunnydale could be characterized as strained at best, and it hadn't been too long ago that he'd conspired to have Spike killed. Now here he was, sitting in the other man's apartment while Spike acted hospitable.

"You know, Watcher, I couldn't bite you even if I wanted to. You don't have to look all twitchy."

"I'm not…afraid of you, Spike. This is just…uncomfortable."

"Because you helped Robin try to kill me?"

Giles winced. "Well, yes, actually."

"Look, it was a mistake on your part, yeah, but none of us knew that at the time. I could've gone either way with the way the First was messing with my head, and you did what you thought was best. You wanted to protect Buffy, and I can respect that."

Giles looked at Spike in surprise. That certainly wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting. "Still, I…"

"Don't. I'm not the one who needs your apology for that. If you're going to be handing those out, then give it the Slayer." Spike sat on the other end of the couch, silence hanging between the two men. "So you want to make me a lab rat now or…" Spike asked.

"We should most likely wait for Buffy," Giles answered.

Silence again as they both shifted uncomfortably. Spike cleared his throat. "So," he began. "Ever played Crash Bandicoot?"

* * *

If there was one thing Buffy didn't expect to walk in to Spike's apartment and see, it was him playing video games with her Watcher. She stopped short, Willow catching it a split second before bumping into her.

"Buffy, what…oh my goddess."

Spike and Giles turned in unison, looking very much like little boys caught with their hands in the candy jar. "We were waiting for you," Spike explained.

"Giles plays video games?" Buffy asked lamely, amazed that she was even able to find her voice.

"Not very well," Spike said. "I was kicking his arse."

"I'm fairly certain he was cheating somehow," Giles muttered.

"Well, we're back, so you two can come out of the Twilight Zone now."

Spike and Giles both set down their controllers slowly and stood up. "Did you get the stuff for the spell?" Spike asked.

Willow patted the bag she was holding. "Yep. Found it all."

"Are you quite sure you know how to perform whatever spell this is?" Giles asked.

"I am," Willow replied. "I already told Spike and Buffy I was going to be careful. No neglectful Wicca Willow this time."

"Did you bring anything that might be helpful to us?" Buffy asked, coming into the living room and standing beside Spike.

"Yes. It's in here, just let me get it out," Giles replied. He went to his bag, unzipping it and pulling out a slim, black object.

Buffy's eyes widened. "Is that a laptop?"

"Yes," Giles replied.

"Didn't I just ask you to come out of the Twilight Zone?"

Giles gave her a dirty look. "I never would've been able to get as many books as I'd most likely need through customs. This way I can simply connect to the Watcher's Library Database that Andrew has been compiling."

"Andrew does stuff?" Buffy said. "Huh. I thought he just slept on my couch and ate all my food."

"Andrew's staying with you again?" Willow asked.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Don't get me started. It's a long story." She made a quick glance in Spike's direction. "Although come to think of it, he was in Los Angeles not too long ago. Wolfram and Hart, if memory serves. Meeting with the CEO and his…people?"

"Well, we have a lot of work to do here," Spike said quickly, clapping his hands together. "So how about we get started."

Buffy raised an eyebrow at Spike, but let it drop as Willow and Giles both began to set up what they needed to get to the bottom of what had happened to Spike.

* * *

Angel knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He knew Connor was still in the room, his scent and the occasional rustling noise making that clear. He knocked again, letting out a small sound of frustration when he got the same lack of response.

"Connor, it's your da…it's Angel. I just want to talk to you."

Connor still didn't reply. Angel reached down, turning the handle and finding the door unlocked, then going into the room. Connor was sitting on the bed, his knees pulled up as he stared at the wall, making no move to acknowledge the new presence in the room. Angel didn't know what to say or what to do. It hadn't been that long ago since he'd been given an infant, a life, to care for, and looking at the young man in front of him now, he knew how badly he'd messed that up.

"Are you hungry?" Angel asked. "I know you haven't really wanted to leave the room, so I could bring you something up if you wanted."

No answer.

"Okay, not hungry… Are you too cold in here? Or too hot maybe? Do you need anything at all?"

Connor turned then, his eyes an icy blue that reminded Angel a bit too much of Darla. "I don't need anything from you. Stop trying to be my father."

Angel blinked. "Connor, I…I _am_."

"No, you're not. And you made sure of that, didn't you? Got rid of me as fast as you could, made it so I was someone else's son."

"No! Connor, it wasn't like that! I didn't _want_ to give you up. You're my son, and I love you."

Connor jumped up, facing Angel as he began to yell. "What do you know about love? You don't even care about me! You couldn't wait to get me out of your life! And hey, the fact that doing that came with money, power, and a bunch of shiny new toys—just a bonus."

"That isn't true! You're more important to me than anything in this world. You're my _son_, my own flesh and blood."

"I don't care! I don't want anything to do with you. All you've ever done is fuck up my life, and I hate you!"

Angel bristled. "Connor, please… I'm sorry that things happened this way. I tried to do what was best for you, it just…it never went the way I wanted it to." A list of things that Angel had planned when he'd held Connor as a baby flashed through his mind, and he grimaced at the thought of how so many of those dreams he'd had would never come true for his son. "Just…just let us try to move on from here."

"No!" Connor yelled again. "I can't stand here and listen to you act like it could ever be better, because it _can't_. You've ruined my life, just like your ruin everything."

"I know I messed up with you. But it wasn't because I don't love you, or because I don't want you in my life. You mother told me once that you were the one good thing that we ever did together, and it's true. Connor, you're the best thing I've ever done, period. Even if things didn't go the way I'd like them to, I look at you, and you still make me prouder than anything else ever could."

"Stop it!" Connor was fighting against tears now. Angel wanted to reach out and comfort his son, but he knew it wouldn't be accepted. "I…I have to leave," Connor said, going for the door.

"No. Don't, please," Angel said, reaching out and grabbing Connor's arm as he tried to make it past him.

Connor pulled away, making Angel stumble backwards. "Don't touch me," he snarled before running out of the room.

Angel went into the hallway, prepared to go after his son when he felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"Let him go. He can handle himself."

Angel turned slowly. "Cordelia."

"In the flesh."

"I have to go after him, Cordy."

"No, you don't. Connor needs time right now. Give it to him."

Angel's shoulders slumped. "I don't know what to do. I don't think I've ever felt this lost."

Cordelia wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to her. "I know it's hard now, but you're strong, Angel. We'll get through this."

Angel stepped back, although he kept his arms loosely around her waist. "We?"

"Yes. We."

"Does…does that mean you can stay this time?"

"I can stay—for as long as you need me."

"I'm always going to need you, Cordy. Without you I…I fall apart."

"I know. But it's going to be better now. We can be happy."

The look in her eyes made Angel pull away. "No. I can't…I can't be that happy."

Cordelia cupped his cheek. "Yes, you can. It's okay. The Powers want to release you from your curse."

"What? I…"

"Shh…" Cordelia placed a finger to his lips to silence him before replacing it with her lips. Angel hesitated for only a moment before he pulled her to him with a growl. When they finally broke apart, Cordelia was panting, gasping for air. His vampiric ridges were present now, and she reached up to stroke them. "It's going to be all right, Angel," she said softly. "You can let go now."

Angel lifted Cordelia off her feet and carried her off to bed.

* * *

So what do you think of that, huh? Reviews would be nice.

Although please, for the love of cheese wheels, don't tell me this chapter wasn't "Spuffy enough." I did as much with Spike and Buffy as I could with this one, but I had to move the plot in other directions, too, and couldn't jam it full of heartwarming Spuffy moments. Please respect me as a writer and understand that.

A big thanks to Niamh on this chapter for talking me through my block.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Spike eyed Willow dubiously as she mixed up the ingredients for the spell she planned on performing. Giles and Buffy were at the kitchen table setting up his laptop, and Spike had to resist the urge to ask her to sit with him and calm him as if he were a child at the hospital to get a shot. It wasn't that he didn't trust Willow exactly. He didn't think she'd purposely do anything drastic like say, wipe his entire memory, but he knew all too well that that sort of thing had a way of happening where Willow was involved…

Buffy glanced up, noticing the extreme wariness written on Spike's face as Willow prepared her potion. "I'll be back," she told Giles softly before going into the living room and sitting beside Spike on the couch. "You okay?" she asked him, patting his leg.

"Sure. I'm doing bloody wonderful."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh. Spike, if you don't want to do this, just say so."

"Don't much like the idea of being as lab rat, yeah, but I need to know what's going on. I…I need to know what I am now."

Buffy was silent for a moment as she took in what Spike had just said. She hadn't thought about it until then, but this was more than just him not knowing what had happened to him. He didn't know what he was anymore. Human, demon, or something else entirely, he didn't know. She realized how frustrating that must be for him, and she reached out to touch him again, this time rubbing his arm soothingly. "We'll figure this out, Spike. I won't let you down here."

Spike gave her a small smile and brushed her hair away from her face. "You've never let me down, Buffy."

Buffy felt her heart speed up. The way he was looking at her now… "Spike…"

"I got it!"

Spike and Buffy turned quickly at the sound of Willow's exclamation. "Got what, Will? The spell?" Buffy asked.

"Yep. My potion's all…potiony." Willow held it up. "See."

Spike frowned when he spotted the murky liquid inside the clear container. "Please tell me I don't have to drink that."

"This from the man who drank blood with bits of cereal crumbled in it," Buffy muttered, earning her a dirty look from Spike that quickly morphed into a smirk.

"You don't have to drink it," Willow said. "It's a skin test."

"Skin test? That doesn't involve festering boils, does it?"

"Nope. It's really simple, actually. I just drop a little on you, and it will turn green if you're a demon and yellow if you're not. Oh, and it comes right off, so don't worry about that either."

"All right then," Spike said, standing up. "Might as well get this over with. Over the sink all right? I don't want to see what that stuff would do to my carpet."

Willow followed Spike to the kitchen sink, and Buffy went back over to Giles, close enough to watch but still out of the way. Spike took a deep breath and held his hand over the sink, letting Willow pour the potion onto him.

"Uh, Red, what does it mean if it turns a sort of murky gray?"

Willow glanced quickly between Spike's hand and Buffy and Giles. "I did it right, I swear! I don't know what went wrong…"

Spike turned on the water, rinsing the gray liquid off of him. "Well, that didn't tell us anything," he muttered.

"Actually, it may have told us a great deal," Giles said as he walked over and took the potion from Willow, spilling some over his own hand. As soon as it hit his skin, the liquid turned yellow.

"See! It works!" Willow declared with a grin. "And Giles is human."

Giles gave the young witch a sideways glance before turning to Spike. "I believe you got the results you did because human and demon is not an either or situation for you. Whatever happened to you didn't so much as make you no longer a vampire as it brought your body back to life again, making you essentially to be a living vampire."

"But he can go out into the sunlight, Giles," Buffy said, approaching the others. "And…and he eats real food instead of blood."

"Which both fit my theory," Giles replied. "Vampires drink blood because it is what the demon requires to keep what is essentially a corpse animated. As Spike himself put it years ago, well, blood is life. If his body were to be sustaining life on its own, which it appears to now be doing, then feeding on blood would no longer be necessary. And as for the sunlight, I suppose that would be much the same thing. A vampire's undead status provides for the negative reaction to sunlight, and now that Spike is, well…"

"Un-undead?" Spike supplied.

"For lack of a better term, I suppose. And if my theory is correct, well, you're something that's never existed before."

"Actually, that's not entirely true, Watcher," Spike said. "Or at least, I think so."

"Connor," Buffy said, knowing what Spike was thinking. "He has vampire strength at least. You should've seen how far he made Angel fly by punching him."

"Who is Connor?" Giles asked.

"Angel's son with Darla," Spike replied.

"What!" Giles and Willow exclaimed in unison.

"Angel and…Darla…were able to produce a child, and we were not aware of this?" Giles asked. He looked at Buffy in shock. "When did this happen? How long have you known?"

"Chill, Giles. It happened a few years ago. Wolfram and Hart brought Darla back, and she got all groiny with Angel. Seeing as they were both vampires at the time, I have no clue how that made a baby, but it did. And I only found out about it a few days ago, technically. Angel had something done to erase Connor from everyone's memories. Part of the deal he made with Wolfram and Hart."

"So this Connor is a small child then? Who knocked his father across the room with one punch?" Giles asked, frowning.

"Not quite," Spike replied. "Kid spent some time in a hell dimension. Grew up faster than a soap opera brat."

"Where is he now?" Giles asked, the Watcher in him unable to keep from being fascinated by the idea of a child born of two vampires.

"Hyperion, last I saw of him," Buffy said. "He was yelling at Angel for selling him out to evil, or something like that. I left then. The guy looked pretty broken, and I figured I didn't need to intrude on the family moment."

"Well, then I suppose there is some degree of precedent for what you are," Giles said. "Although I doubt, um, Connor would allow us to compare the two of you."

"No, don't think that's going to happen," Spike replied. "Poor kid's got Angel for a father _and_ he's dealing with some serious things right now, if the scene Buffy caught is any indication. He's got to be all twitchy."

Giles coughed. "If you don't mind, Spike, I'd like to test you a bit at some point. See exactly what this change entails."

"Sure you just don't want to feel like you flew all the way to LA to pour goop on your hand?" Spike asked with a crooked eyebrow.

"No, that is not it," Giles replied, giving Spike a dirty look. "We may have a theory now as to what you are, but we're still not even sure if this is a permanent change."

"It's permanent!" Buffy said, her tone almost frantic for a moment before she sucked in a deep breath, calming herself. "I told you about the prophecy, Giles. The Powers that Be did this. They can't just take it back.

Spike looked at Buffy askance. What did it matter to her if he was alive or not? It wasn't like she was going to stick around to see what he'd do with this new life he'd been given anyway.

Giles spoke again. "What you told me about that prophecy was very vague, Buffy. It's not one that I'm familiar with, and with the old Watcher's Library mostly destroyed, I don't think I could properly research it."

"Angel might have a copy," Buffy said. "Or at least know more about the particulars."

"He's read it," Spike said. "Well, a translation, but that's more than we have to go on."

"I'll go to the Hyperion," Buffy said. "See what I can get out of him."

"Need me to go with you, pet?" Spike asked, remembering how upset Buffy had been after her last conversation with Angel.

"Are you sure?" she asked Spike. "You've pretty much been avoiding Angel ever since this began."

"I'm sure. Gotta face ol' Granddad sooner or later."

Buffy turned to Giles and Willow. "Will you two be okay here?"

"We'll be fine," Giles replied. "We can research what I have of the Watcher's database, see if there's anything that can help us."

"Okay, you do research, we'll do reconnaissance. Ready, Spike?"

Spike could see in Buffy now how even with a year between her life now and her life as the only active Slayer so much of her was still the same. She still reacted as she always had when she was scared or nervous about something—she fell into action. As long as she was doing something, she didn't feel helpless. "Yeah. Let's go, kitten."

* * *

It was quiet when Buffy and Spike got to the Hyperion, and Buffy realized that all the Slayers were gone. She thought she should probably feel guilty about basically ignoring them after leading them into a near-apocalyptic battle, but she didn't. She wouldn't have been able to do much with the healing anyway. They hadn't needed her, but Spike had.

"Peaches is around here somewhere," Spike said, glancing around the empty lobby. "Scent's still pretty strong. Angel and…" He stopped, sniffing again. "Cordelia? She's supposed to be dead…"

"Yeah, well, I don't think either one of us is in any position to point fingers where that's concerned. We've both been dead twice," Buffy replied. "So you think maybe he's got an ancient prophecy shelf that we can raid and then get out of here without a confrontation?"

"Don't think so, luv."

"Buffy, William! So good of you to drop by."

Buffy and Spike turned to see Angel coming down the stairs. Buffy could see the barely restrained anger in his eyes. "Um, hi Angel."

Angel stopped at the foot of the stairs. "So what brings such a lovely couple to my hotel on this very sunny afternoon?"

Buffy swallowed hard. Or course Angel wasn't going to make this easy… She resisted the urge to reach out and take Spike's hand, knowing that would only make things worse. "We wanted to talk to you about the Shanshu Prophecy." Buffy said, deciding there was no reason to be anything but blunt.

"Oh, that. Why are you asking me?" Angel gestured towards Spike. "He's the lucky recipient, after all."

"Because we don't know anything about it," Buffy said with a sigh. "You've read it. I thought maybe you could help us figure some things out."

"Yeah, I've read it, but it doesn't look like it did a lot of good. Who knows, maybe there was just more than Mountain Dew in that cup after all."

Buffy's brow wrinkled. "Mountain Dew?"

"Tell you later," Spike said.

Angel took a couple of steps closer. "What, you didn't tell Buffy yet? Thought for sure you'd give her a blow by blow, tell her all about how you proved yourself the better man." Angel sneered. "How was it you described your time with Buffy that day? Oh yeah, 'stickin' it to her' was the phrase, I believe."

"Oh, sure, take that out of context, why don't you," Spike snapped. "You know…"

Buffy put her hand on Spike's arm, getting him to be quiet again. "Look, Angel, I am _so_ not in the mood for this. So how about you act like a grown-up here?"

Angel's eyes zeroed in on where Buffy's hand was resting on Spike's arm. Neither one of them seemed to flinch at all at the gesture, rubbing it in his face how comfortable they were with touching each other. "You want my help, Buffy? Fine. I'll give you some advice. Stay away from Spike. That should help you out a lot."

"Dammit, Angel, what is _wrong_ with you? Look, I know you're upset that the prophecy wasn't about you, but…"

"Upset?" Angel started walking again, slowly moving towards them. "'Upset,' she says. I have everything I've worked for, my _redemption_, stolen from me by this pathetic excuse for a man here, and she says I'm 'upset.' Let me tell you something, _Buffy_. I'm a little more than upset."

Spike moved himself between Angel and Buffy. "Look, your problem is with me, not Buffy. Leave her alone. You've hurt her enough for one lifetime."

"Aw, what do we have here? William the Bloody trying to be all manly and stand up for a girl that's never going to be his. This just gets pathetic after a while, you know that, Billy?"

"I'm pathetic? You're the jealous wanker who's swaggering around here making an ass of yourself."

"Yeah? Then maybe we should cut the chit-chat." Angel punched Spike, sending Spike staggering backwards and to the ground.

"Angel! What the _hell_ is wrong with you?" Buffy exclaimed. She turned to Spike, gasping as she saw his eyes turn to a feral yellow before he leapt up with a growl and charged at Angel.

Angel's eyes widened almost comically as he realized the Spike he'd just picked a fight with was not quite as human as he'd thought. But soon that didn't matter as he was struggling to hold his own in the brawl.

"Stop it!" Buffy yelled, but neither listened to her. She considered physically pulling them apart, but as wildly as they were fighting, she decided against that. But what could she do? They were likely to do some serious damage to each other if they continued like this.

Suddenly, a bright white light surrounded both Spike and Angel and they floated away from each other. They looked puzzled for a moment before trying to start up again, only to discover they couldn't move. Buffy looked over to see an extremely angry Cordelia coming down the stairs.

"You know, Angel," Cordelia said as she walked towards the vampire, "I was upset enough when I woke up alone a few minutes ago, but then to come down here and find you fighting with Spike… Did you not listen to _anything_ I've said to you these past couple of days? Because honestly, if there's one thing I hate, it's being ignored."

Angel had the decency to look sheepish. "Uh, hi, Cordy. You think maybe you could…"

"Let you go? Nuhuh. Not until I'm finished talking, buster. See, I've said this over and over, but you don't seem to listen, so I'm going to try one more time. Maybe if you're a captive audience, it'll sink in to that thick skull of yours. The Shanshu Prophecy was not yours. It was meant for a _Champion_—not the CEO of Evil, Inc. You didn't prove yourself worthy—Spike did. Spike was instrumental in adverting four potentially major apocalypses, and two of those were before he had a soul. He risked himself out of selflessness time and time again, and that was almost always because of love. He continually put those he loves first, allowing himself to be driven by his heart, even when it didn't beat. That's what a Champion is, Angel. It's someone who loves with every bit of who they are, who puts love above all else. Love, _real love_, is the essence of selflessness, of sacrifice. You've had chance after chance to love like that, and you've run from it every time. Spike never has, even when it threatened to tear him apart."

Angel stared at Cordelia, not know what to say. He knew he had no rational way of arguing against that, not with her. She knew him too well. And truth be told, he was tired of trying. "But Cordy, what…what do I do now?"

"You're getting one more chance. That's why I'm here. Took an awful lot to convince the PTB you were worth keeping around after that stunt with the Circle of the Black Thorn, let me tell you. But we made a deal. You get to stick around—with a newly-anchored soul—in exchange for being the Champion I told them you could be. Means you're going to have to work a bit more there, buddy. No more going to bat for Team Evil."

"What about you?" Angel asked.

"I'm here to stay. Someone has to make sure you stay on your path after all. But all this Buffy jealousy crap has to stop, or I am so out that door."

With that, Cordelia released the hold she had on Spike and Angel, and Angel immediately pulled Cordelia into his arms. "I love you, Cordy," he whispered against her ear.

Spike moved around a bit trying to get over the feeling of being held almost completely immobile. He looked over at Buffy, seeing tears in her eyes. Angel's declaration of love to Cordelia had been so soft that he didn't think Buffy could've heard it, but it still had to hurt her, seeing Angel so close to another woman, especially Cordelia.

Buffy wiped at her eyes, then walked over to Spike. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. You look beat up."

"Had worse."

"I can get you some ice. And maybe the Slayers left something behind that would help with the pain."

"Buffy, if you need to get out of here, you don't have to make up excuses."

"What are you talking about?"

Spike gestured to where Angel was still clutching Cordelia. "That. Made you cry, didn't it?"

"No!" Buffy sighed, glancing around until she spotted the exit to the garden. "Come on. Let's go talk for a bit. Give them some time alone."

Spike followed Buffy outside, sitting with her on a stone bench. "Kinda nice out here," he said, looking everywhere but at Buffy. "Angel always did like flowers."

"Spike, are you sure you're okay? You two were pounding each other pretty hard." He turned towards her then, raising an eyebrow at her choice or words. Buffy rolled her eyes. "I swear, you have the dirtiest mind _ever_. You guys were fighting—fiercely. No broken ribs or anything?"

"No. I'm fine. Probably look horrible, but I don't think anything's broken."

"Good. I was scared, watching that. I was afraid he'd really hurt you, as angry as he was."

"Please," Spike said with a snort. "I can hold my own against Angel."

Buffy rolled her eyes again at his words and slightly puffed up chest. "Well, sorry to hurt your manly pride then with my concern for you." Spike smirked at her, and something from the fight popped back into Buffy's mind. "Spike, do you realize that when you were fighting Angel your eyes went all yellow?"

Spike's obvious shock answered her question. "They did? Were there bumpies, too?"

"No. Eyes only."

"Huh. Guess that adds to the Watcher's whole 'living vampire' theory."

"Yeah, looks like."

"So is that why you brought me out here, pet? Talk about my eyes?"

"No." Buffy took a deep breath. "I wanted to let you know that I wasn't crying about Cordelia and Angel. If they want to be together, fine. I'm happy for them, actually. I was crying because of what Cordelia said about being a Champion and love. She was right, about you. You've always loved, Spike, loved so well, and…and all I ever did was throw it back in your face. I'm so sorry."

"Buffy, pet, don't feel sorry about that. I've always loved, yeah—it's part of me. Not even losin' my soul could change that. Loved my mum, loved Dru, loved Dawn, loved _you_. But don't feel bad about not loving me back. I don't think anyone's ever loved me back the way I loved them. I've come to accept it. There's just something about me, I suppose, that when you get right down to it makes me unlovable." He shrugged.

Buffy started to yell at him, to demand how he could presume to tell her own feelings. She remembered back in the Hellmouth when he'd used what they'd thought at the time to be their last few moments together to tell her she didn't love him. But then she looked into his eyes and really _heard_ what he was saying. Spike thought was unlovable. He thought he'd never have the unconditional love he felt so strongly returned to him. And he was just going to accept that… It made her heart break for him. She reached up, gently cupping his face in her hand. "You're not unlovable, Spike…"

"Buffy, I…"

Buffy pressed her finger to his lips. "Shh. Hear me out, okay? You're not unlovable. Love hasn't done right by you, that's true, but there's nothing wrong with you like that. The things I told you in the past, they weren't true. I did love you Spike, I was just so scared. There's no excuse for what I did to you, but it wasn't _because_ of you. You gave me more than any of my other boyfriends ever did, loved all of me in a way they never could." She dropped her hand.

"I loved _you_. You didn't…"

"No! Stop saying that, dammit!" Buffy jumped up. Now she did want to yell. She'd tried to be nice and comfort him, but in typical Spike fashion he was being stubborn and pigheaded. "You don't know how I feel! You think you're the one with all the love here? Well, you're wrong, because I love you!"

It was the look of complete shock on Spike's face that made Buffy realize what she'd just said. They stared at each other until the garden door opened and Cordelia stepped out.

"Angel went upstairs, but if you two want to come in, I can tell you what I know about the Shanshu Prophecy."

Spike and Buffy shared a look. The prophecy was why they were there after all. "Yeah, we'll be right in," Buffy said to Cordelia.

"All right. I'll meet you in the lobby." Cordelia went back into the hotel, and Buffy started to follow her when Spike grabbed her hand. "We're going to have to talk about this."

"I know. Just…not now."

Spike nodded, knowing from experience it was better not to push Buffy when she wasn't ready. She walked off, and Spike followed her into the Hyperion.

* * *

That's a mean place to leave it, isn't it? Well, leave me lots of reviews, and they'll inspire me to get the next chapter out sooner. wink 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Cordelia sat with Buffy and Spike on the couch in the center of the Hyperion's lobby as they looked at her with hopeful eyes, as if waiting for her to answer all their questions. It was a different experience from what she'd known with either of them before, especially Buffy. The few times Cordelia had seen Buffy since she'd left Sunnydale, she'd still been the same stuck-up cheerleader in the Slayer's eyes, not the woman she'd become in LA. But now Buffy was looking at her differently, as if she were someone who could have something important to say.

It made Cordy realize how much Buffy must've changed as well in the past five years. Cordelia had never really cared for her in the past, even using her as a scapegoat for all her problems. However, when she looked at Buffy now, she saw a tired young woman who'd known too much suffering in her few years.

Cordelia could certainly relate to that…

She let out a deep breath, deciding on how much and what to tell them. In her recent time back in the Higher Realms, she'd learned much, seen numerous possible paths and outcomes for the future. Nevertheless, she'd also learned in the years since she'd become a Seer that nothing not yet done was set in stone. It was why prophecies were so often cryptic, much like horoscopes. You bettered your chances of getting something right if you made it vague and open to multiple interpretations.

Making up her mind about how much to divulge, Cordelia began to speak. "How the Shanshu Prophecy would be fulfilled has been up in the air for a while now. There wasn't supposed to be two vampires with souls. The PTB had planned on one vampire going from warrior of darkness to Champion."

"And what, I threw a spanner in the works by making myself all soul-having?" Spike asked.

"Actually no," Cordy replied. "That was Angel. His soul was never really supposed to be returned to him in the first place. That was just a fluke brought on by a gypsy curse. The vampire with a soul has been prophesized for thousands of years, and it was always believed that that vampire would actively choose the path of good, make a decision to be more than he was. But then Angel was cursed, and some of the Higher Beings started to suspect that they'd been wrong about that. So Angel was set on the path towards being a Champion."

"Wait," Buffy interjected, a frown creasing her face. "They're Higher Beings. Shouldn't they just _know_ things? I mean, how could a Higher Being be wrong?"

"Buffy, _I'm_ a Higher Being," Cordelia said with a small smile.

"Oh. How did _that_ happen?"

"It's a long story and not really relevant here. The point is, well, two ensouled vampires running around mucked things up quite a bit, especially since the idea of being granted life through what is spoken of in Shanshu Prophecy came to both of your attention. The PTB were divided on the issue, trying to decide which one of you was the true prophesized vampire Champion, and therefore deserving of some kind of reward. It was close for a while, especially since Angel has had the soul for so much longer.

"But then he slipped. He could tell everyone—even himself—that his intentions when he became CEO of Wolfram and Hart were completely noble, but the Powers That Be knew better. I asked them to let me go to him, to warn him about where his path was leading him, but that turned out to do more harm than good. Instead of taking what I showed him as the warning it was meant to be, he took it as the go-ahead to do something that knocked him out of the running for true Champion status, quite possibly permanently. And well, while you can't really 'sign away' a prophecy if it's truly about you, Angel attempting to do just that was the last little push in Spike's direction that the PTB needed. To turn his back on a possible reward like that, well, it offended them to say the least. So the decision was made, and Spike's back among the living. Only they took a few liberties with that, since they didn't want to lose a fighter. After all, the Shanshu Prophecy just promised life. It never promised full humanity."

Cordelia stopped then, and the first question that came out of Spike's mouth surprised Buffy, particularly in the way she noted genuine concern in his voice. "What's going to happen to Angel now?"

"I'm not sure," Cordelia replied. "The Powers are angry. They've given Angel chance after chance, and he keeps blowing it—this time in a big way. And, well, I've seen many possible paths for him, and several of them are very dark. Even with his soul anchored, Angel's more than capable of slipping. I've seen it more times than I like to think about." Cordelia shivered, remembering all the times she'd seen the darker side of the ensouled version of the vampire with blinding clarity. "He…he wants to do good, but it gets too hard for him, and he just gives up. Takes the easier road, the one without as much struggling. I don't know how well I can keep him in check, but I have to try. The PTB wanted to let him be dust, and seeing where he could go, I wonder if maybe that would be best, but I…I just couldn't. He's _Angel_, and I…" Cordelia trailed off then, tears springing to her eyes.

Buffy reached over, placing a comforting hand on Cordy's leg. "I know. And I don't think you made the wrong choice fighting for him. You love him. I can see that. I can also see that he feels the same way about you. Angel, he's…he's a difficult man to love, but he won't let you down."

Cordy blinked, surprised to hear that from Buffy of all people. "But I…he let _you_ down."

The smile Buffy gave in response to that managed to be both sad and accepting. "He did. But he never looked at me the way he looks at you." Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, preparing to say what she'd known for a while but had never had the strength to admit quite the way she was about to. "What Angel and I had could never last. We just didn't have that kind of relationship. It didn't grow strong through overcoming obstacles together. It anything, we came out of every trial weaker, not stronger. It was a relationship based on idealizations that could only come crashing down around us. Angel could never…" She glanced back at Spike, giving him a small grin. "Angel could never look at both the best and the worst of me and still tell me I'm the one."

Cordelia observed the subtle interaction of the two blondes in front of her, and realized that not all of what Buffy had just said had been completely meant for her. She smiled inwardly, knowing that they were on their right path together, whether they realized it or not. "Thank you, Buffy," she said, smiling warmly at the Slayer for what could be the first time ever in the eight years she'd known her. "That means a lot, coming from you."

Buffy returned the smile, noting to herself that she didn't feel a hint of jealousy at the idea of Angel being with Cordelia now. It seemed right, in a way that her teenaged, Juliet-wannabe self hadn't been able to see. If anyone could keep Angel in line, it was Cordelia Chase. "I wish you two the best of luck. And hey, now that the soul's locked in place, plenty of happiness, too."

Cordelia chuckled. "Thanks, Buffy." She sat up a little straighter, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "So is there anything else you want to know about the Shanshu Prophecy?"

"Just a guarantee that this is from the Powers That Be and not some cruel trick that's going to make things go all wonky as soon as I get comfortable," Spike said.

"I can promise you that much. The Powers consider the Shanshu Prophecy now fulfilled, and you the ensouled vampire in question. It's up to you to decide what you're going to do now that you've got yourself a beating heart," Cordy answered.

"But they kept me strong," Spike replied. "They obviously want me to keep fighting."

"And you don't? Would have preferred them to return you exactly to your human self, William the Bloody?"

The twinkle in Cordelia's eyes told Spike that she somehow knew _exactly_ where that particular moniker of his came from, and he fought the urge to blush. "Well, um, I suppose you have a point there."

"They kept you a fighter because that's what you are," Cordy explained. "Nowadays, you're fighting the good fight, but that's still a part of you. You wouldn't be able to go into quiet retirement and live a 'normal' life anymore than Buffy here would, despite what she loves to tell herself. You're a Champion because of who you are, not because of a label given to you by the Powers. It's in your blood—no pun intended. Letting you retain your vampiric abilities is just going to make that a little easier for you."

Spike merely nodded his assent, knowing Cordelia was right. Maybe it was the soul trying to atone for the sins that threatened to choke it, or maybe it was something else about him entirely, but he wouldn't be able to turn his back when he knew what was out there, waiting to prey on the innocent.

"So is that all then?" Cordelia asked. "Not to rush you guys out of here, but I have a cranky vampire upstairs that needs some attention…"

"We're fine," Spike said. "Thank you, Cordelia. Go see to Peaches. Sure the old grandsire could use himself a hug right now." He ended his sentence with a smirk, as if trying to convince the two women that he really wasn't in the least bit worried about Angel.

"All right then," Cordelia replied, getting to her feet. Before she walked away, she looked down at Buffy and Spike and spoke again, deciding one more thing needed to be said. "Both of you know what's in your hearts. You need to let go of what used to be, because what can be is beautiful." She smiled at them one more time before ascending the stairs to Angel.

Silence filled the lobby for a long moment as Spike and Buffy looked at each other. Finally, Spike broke the gaze and spoke first. "I suppose we should get back to my apartment, let Giles and Red know what Cordelia said."

"Yeah," Buffy replied, trying to mask her disappointment that that was all Spike had to say. She started to walk off, but Spike went after her, taking hold of her hand and spinning her around to face him.

"We're still talking about what you said out there, Buffy. Now just isn't the time or the place."

Buffy gave the hand linked with hers a gentle squeeze. "I know. And I meant it. We just…need time to sit down and figure out what we want to do. Even with love, nothing's ever simple."

"I know." Spike chuckled, though the sound held little amusement. "Believe me, I know."

They walked out the Hyperion, still hand in hand.

* * *

Giles and Willow were in the living room when Spike and Buffy returned. "Did you find anything regarding the Prophecy?" Giles asked almost as soon as they were through the door.

"The cuts and bruises on Spike don't mean we ran into any serious trouble, and he'll be fine in a day or two, thanks for asking," Buffy replied, giving the Watcher a disapproving look eerily similar to the ones he used to give her.

"Oh. I…I didn't see those," Giles said, beginning to fidget.

"They're not bad," Spike said with a shrug. "Angel just threw a little fit."

Willow's eyes widened. "Angel hit you?"

"Well, yeah. He does that a lot," Spike replied. "I've had enough time to get used to it." He added with a grin, "But the look on his face when he realized I still had my strength was enough to make this little tussle worth it."

Buffy rolled her eyes at that. "You are so pathetic."

"Oh come on, Slayer. You can't tell me that wasn't at least a little bit funny."

"I was a bit too worried about your well-being to be laughing, _dear_," Buffy said, trying to retain a stern look on her face.

"Since when do you care about that?"

"Hey! I care! I totally care! How many times have I saved that cute ass of yours, mister?"

Spike smirked. "Okay, good point. And it is rather cute, isn't it?"

A slow, almost predatory smile crept across Buffy's lips. "Very."

Willow's cough pulled Buffy and Spike back to the present moment, and they both turned quickly to look at Giles and Willow. "Oh. Right. The Shanshu Prophecy," Spike said, deciding to hold off on any analyzing of how easily he and Buffy slipped into flirty banter. "Angel was too busy playing Jake LaMotta to be too forthcoming with information, but Cordelia was there, and she says the Powers That Be did it."

Giles frowned. "Cordelia? _Chase_? How would she know? And isn't she…dead?"

"She was," Buffy said. "Guess she can join the 'I was dead and now I'm not' club now, too."

"That's a club? Can I join, too?" Spike teased.

Buffy giggled. "Sure. You can be vice-president."

"And I suppose you're president, little miss bossy?"

Buffy put her hands on her hips. "Well, yeah. I was deadest."

"What? I was dead for one hundred and twenty four years!"

"Yeah, well, I rotted."

Spike's nose wrinkled. "Okay, you win that."

"Can we possibly discuss the subject at hand, please?" Giles asked.

"Sorry," Buffy muttered, noting the annoyance on her Watcher's face. Did he still have a problem with the idea of her and Spike? "Turns out Cordelia's a Higher Being now. She had info direct from the Powers."

Willow snorted. "Well, she always thought she was one. Might as well make it official."

"So then this transformation of Spike's is genuine?" Giles asked.

"Looks like it, Rupes," Spike replied. "I've got myself a life to live now."

"And will this life…be with Buffy?"

Buffy and Spike exchanged a glance at Giles's question. "We haven't talked about that yet," Buffy said after a moment.

"Then just let me say, well, I'm not sure if it means anything anymore, but if the two of you were to decide that that was what you wished to do, well, I…" Giles took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "You would have my blessing."

It took only a second for Buffy to run to him, wrapping her arms around him in a crushing hug. "Buffy…lungs…they need to work."

Buffy pulled back, her arms falling to her sides. "Sorry, Giles. Just…that did mean a lot, hearing you say that."

"I was wrong before, Buffy. What I said—what I did. I wasn't looking at the situation rationally, too blinded by past events that had nothing to do with Spike at all. I betrayed you in one of the worst ways possible, and I don't even know how to being to apologize for that."

"This is a start," Buffy said softly, the tears that were forming making it hard for her to speak.

"I am sorry. For everything I did to hurt you then."

"I know. And things were…difficult then. Everything was so dark, so muddled. But maybe we can move past that now?"

"I'd like to very much." Giles pulled Buffy back into another hug, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from him.

"You know, I'm feeling sorta beat after all that magic and research and stuff, and I bet Giles has wicked jet lag. How about we go find a hotel where we can crash?" Willow said after Giles and Buffy had broken apart again.

"I'm…" Giles stopped as he glanced between Spike and Buffy and realized what Willow was doing. "Right. Jet lag." He forced a yawn. "Horrible, horrible jet lag. We'll leave now and give you a ring later then?"

"All right," Buffy said with a nod. "You guys be careful out there."

"We will be," Willow said, already moving to gather up her and Giles's things.

It wasn't long before the witch and the Watcher had said their good-byes, leaving Spike and Buffy alone in the apartment. They stood in front of each other, a space separating them that neither seemed able to breech.

"So…" Spike said, for once at a loss for words.

"So," Buffy replied, and the silence returned. When the awkward stillness became too much, she blurted out quickly, "Let me do something about your cuts."

Spike frowned. "Do they really look that bad?"

"No!" She grinned then, feeling her heart lighten again. "They're sexy wounds, I swear."

Spike shook his head as he remembered the last time she'd used that phrase. "Are they now?"

"Uh huh. But you're not dead anymore, so they might get infected, and that wouldn't be sexy. That would be all oozy and ick."

"Oh. Well, in that case, by all means, do something about them."

"All right. Go sit down on the couch, and Nurse Buffy will get to work."

Spike leered at that. "Does Nurse Buffy have a tight white dress?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Pig."

"Your point?"

She lightly slapped his arm. "Go sit. You have anything first aid kit like?"

"Under the sink in the bathroom."

Buffy went then to get it, and Spike went to the couch, sitting down. The events of the day started to hit him, and he didn't know if he should be happy or very, very afraid.

If he didn't know any better, he'd swear he had Buffy's love and the blessing of the closest thing she had to a parent these days…

* * *

Sorry for the delay in chapters. My life hasn't really been conducive to fanfic writing as of late, and I'm doing the best I can with posting. I know you'd like the chapters to be closer together, and I'd love to be able to give you that, but I can't. Please try to be understanding and don't tell me I need to update faster next time. I would if I could, believe me. However, I have no plans to stop writing, and will finish this and all my stories as time permits.

Also, I wanted to point out that this story is the beginning of a sort of post-Chosen/NFA universe I'm in the process of putting together. Some of these stories will be primarily Spuffy, while some will deal with other characters from the series. If you're interested in seeing which fics these are and where to find them,there's a link on the Buffy section of my website. It's called Chronology of Post-Chosen fics, or something like that.I will be adding more fics as I get them started.

And, as always, please review. It's all we fanfic authors get…


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Spike watched as Buffy tended to his wounds. She'd done this for him before, after he'd been a prisoner for the First, but it seemed different now. Less like a comrade-in-arms tending to battle wounds, and well, more like a girlfriend taking care of him.

"You said you loved me," he said, the words leaving his mouth before he was able to fully realize he was even thinking them.

"I did. And I do. You?"

"I've loved you for so long. Couldn't stop if I tried, but…"

Buffy put her finger to his lips. "No buts right now, okay?"

Spike moved her hand away and shook his head. "I can't do that, kitten. Too many of 'em. I can't have you back in my arms only to lose you again."

"You won't."

"Buffy, luv, we don't even live in the same county. Besides, you have a boyfriend."

"Yeah. You."

"No, not me… Wait a minute."

"I want to be with you. And I know there's all that other stuff, but can't we just sort it out in the morning?" She gave him a slow smile. "Or maybe the late afternoon."

"You know what you're sayin', kitten? 'Cause I can't put myself that that again. I need it to be real this time."

"It's always been real, Spike. But yeah, I know what I'm saying. And I know it might take a bit of work, and I doubt things will ever be easy for us, but I made a decision today, and I plan to stick with it."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"You're worth it. _We're_ worth it. What we have between us, I'm not going to let it go."

Spike looked at her with awe. "You really mean that?"

"I do. I love you."

In an instant, Spike was kissing her. The feel of warm lips touching hers surprised Buffy for a moment, as feeling any heat from him despite that which he borrowed from her was a new experience. But the feel of his kiss was so undeniably Spike that she soon settled into it. The movement of his lips, his tongue, were as familiar to her as anything she'd ever known. Living or undead, he was hers. She closed her eyes, melting into the sensation of coming home.

Suddenly, Spike pulled away, gasping for breath. Buffy was confused for a moment before she started to laugh. "Didn't take enough air for that, did you?"

Spike coughed. "Never had to before."

Buffy rested her hands against his chest. "Then I guess we're just going to have to get some practice in so you can get used to it."

Spike's eyes stayed trained on her lips, red and swollen from the kiss he'd just given her. "Yeah, we will." He pulled her to him again, wanting to kiss her senseless even if it took every breath away from his body.

The next time it was Buffy who broke away panting. "Bedroom. I need you."

Spike replied by lifting her off her feet and carrying her the short distance to his bed. He laid her down gently, then pulled back, his heart tightening in his chest at the sight of her in his bed, her golden hair fanned out on the pillow.

"Are you going to stare at me all night, or are you going to make love to me?"

A lump formed in his throat. In all their time together, she'd never used those words to describe their coupling. Buffy, _his_ _Buffy_, loved him and wanted his love in return. "I'm gonna make love to you, baby. Gonna show you just what you mean to me."

Buffy reached out, beckoning him to her arms. He moved into them without hesitation, covering her body with his own. "Love you," he groaned into her hair. "Love you so bloody much."

"Love you, too, Spike. Never gonna lose you again."

Her promise made his need grow even stronger, and he lifted himself up to pull off her shirt. "Wanna make this slow, luv," he said as he tossed the shirt aside. "Wanna spend hours learning you all over again. But…"

Buffy leaned up and kissed him softly. "I know. We have all night for that. Right now I need to feel you inside as much as you need to be inside."

"Are you sure? Because if you need me to get you ready…"

"I am ready. I've been waiting a year to have you back in my arms."

"Right then." With her permission to go at the pace he craved, Spike moved to her jeans, making quick work of the fastenings. Buffy helped him to undress her and then himself, her writhing movements as she did telling him she was indeed as desperate as he was.

They clung to each other with a need bordering on desperation, Spike's hot lips on hers like a brand. He wanted to make her his, and for once, she wasn't going to fight it. She wrapped one leg around him, pulling him close. "Spike, I need you. Oh god, _William_, please…"

Spike lifted up, wanting to be able to meet her eyes. The love he saw there overwhelmed him, and his heart hammered inside of him. He took her hand, placing it over his chest. "Is it beating too fast, Buffy? Been so long since I've had one that works, I don't…"

Buffy took his hand and placed it over her own chest. "It's okay. Mine's fast right now, too. They're beating together now."

"I love you. I know I keep sayin' it, but it keeps going through my head, and I can't help it coming out."

Buffy nodded in response, cupping his cheek. Spike took a deep breath, savoring the feel of air circulating through his lungs. He knew Buffy wanted him—loved him even.

It was time to make their reunion official.

* * *

Buffy came to curled up against Spike's side. She looked up to find blue eyes staring down at her, and she blushed. "Sorry. I think I passed out for a minute there."

"That's quite all right, luv. Nice to know I can still do that to you." He kissed the top of her head. "Besides, I did, too."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "You did?"

"Well, yeah. That was…"

"Intense?"

"That would be the word."

The two were silent for a while, enjoying the feel of simply being close to each other. Then, Buffy spoke. "So was it the way you remembered?"

"What?" Spike asked with a small frown. "Sex with you?"

"No. Sex as a human."

"Well, um, I… I really couldn't tell you."

"I guess it has been a while. I probably couldn't remember that far back either."

"It's not remembering that's the problem. It's that there's nothing to remember."

"What are you saying? That you were a virgin when you were turned?"

"Yeah." Spike shifted, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

"How old were you?"

"Twenty six."

"Twenty six? Seriously? You were twenty six and you'd never…"

Spike turned his head away from her, staring up at the ceiling. "Yes. Could you not make a big deal out of it? It was a different time. Things were…"

"I'm not making fun of you," Buffy cut in. "It's just… Whatever happened to 'I've always been bad?'"

"Never said what I was bad at."

"Okay. So tell me now."

"No."

"What? Why?"

"I'm not up for a post-coital confessional." Spike tensed up beside her. He couldn't stand the thought of her laughing at him. Things had been perfect, and now it was becoming _this_. Wasn't that just his luck…

"Spike, honey , please—don't shut me out. I want to know about you. It's important to me."

Spike sighed. "Fine. Poetry. I was bad at poetry."

"What? You are so not."

Spike looked over at her sharply. "When did you read my poetry?"

"You'd leave it around your crypt. Little scraps of paper here and there with bits of poetry on them, in your handwriting. I figured they were works in progress. But they were good."

Spike wasn't sure how to respond. On the one hand, he was a bit perturbed that Buffy would've secretly read his poems without saying anything to him. Although, given the nature of their relationship at the time, he knew why… But on the other hand, he was happy at the thought of Buffy enjoying his writing. "You really liked them?"

"Yes. And would I be completely self-absorbed in thinking that a few were about me?"

"More than a few, luv. Hell, in that time period, I think there were _all_ about you."

"You're the only man to ever write poetry about me," Buffy said quietly.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Bother me? Why would it bother me? It's very touching, actually."

Spike pulled her closer so her head was resting on his chest. "You know, I'm starting to wonder if maybe I died in that battle, and this is Heaven."

"No. Heaven doesn't feel this wonderful."

Spike blinked. "You can't really mean that. It was _Heaven_. It must've been…well, heavenly."

"It can wait until it's time for me to go back. Right now I'm perfectly happy to live my life with the man I love. Besides, Heaven isn't exactly the place for mind-blowing sex."

"No?" Spike leered at her. "In that case, maybe I'd rather be damned."

"Well, you just went and got yourself redeemed, so if you want damnation, you better start sinning." Buffy winked.

Spike gave her a grin and took her up on her offer.

* * *

They remained conscious this time, and Spike moved to rest his head against Buffy's breast. She ran her fingers through her hair, mussing up the curls even further than they already had been. "I love your hair, too, you know," she said after a moment.

Spike glanced up from his position on her chest. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's so soft. And I like playing with the little curls."

Spike snorted. "Those curls are a pain in my arse."

"But if you fix them right, they're damn sexy."

"Whatever you say, kitten." He rolled over with her, her head now resting on his chest. After a moment, he asked, "Are you getting tired, or…"

"Just give me a minute, and I'll be good to go." She looked up at him. "Unless you can't keep up with me anymore."

"Oh, you are not getting away with that, missy," Spike said, pushing her on her back again. "I'll show you who can't keep up." He pounced, and Buffy squealed even as she pulled him closer.

* * *

There it is folks—the chapter that you've been waiting for. (Not that the story's over quite yet, however…) Still, thank you to the people who were willing to be patient and wait for me to move at my own pace when it came to getting Spike and Buffy "together." It was greatly appreciated, and it kept me from just throwing my hands up in frustration and saying "screw it" in face of some of the reviews I was getting.

I'm sorry this is sort of short. I had to butcher it to meet the guidelines of this site.

Review please, let me know what you thought of this chapter.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Spike lay perched on his elbow, watching Buffy as she slept. She was curled on her side, blanket wrapped tightly around her, and Spike couldn't think of a time when she had looked more beautiful. And she was really his. Completely this time.

Buffy scrunched her nose up in her sleep, and Spike couldn't help but grin. She was adorable. He loved that he could see this side of her, the girl who was buried beneath the Slayer. That she'd let him in, let him get this close to her, meant everything to him.

It was some time later when her eyes finally fluttered open, and a slow, lazy grin spread across her face when she saw him looking down at her. "Hey."

"Hey. Sleep well, kitten?"

Buffy stretched, a very close imitation of what he'd just called her. "Wonderfully. I should sleep next to you every night."

"That could be arranged."

"Oh yeah?" Buffy moved closer, draping her arm over him. "Care to make that official?"

"How? Marry you?"

Buffy blinked. "I…I wasn't thinking about…I…"

Spike felt his heart drop a little. He hadn't planned on saying that, hadn't even given all that much thought to actually marrying Buffy. But then it had popped out, and now she was probably scared again. Dammit… "Buffy, I didn't… That wasn't a proposal."

"I know." She frowned, and Spike could swear he saw disappointment in her eyes. "Why not? Don't you want to marry me?"

"I…I hadn't thought about it. I mean, I want to be with you, but… Did you want it to be a proposal?"

Buffy figured they must've held off the serious relationship talk as long as they could. Might as well get it over with. She pulled back, and saw the fear on Spike's face as she did. "Just getting comfortable," she assured him. Then she reached out and took his hand. "See? I'm not going anywhere."

Spike raised her hand to his lips and gave it a soft kiss. "Good. You're a hard woman to chase."

"And yet, you never given up."

"Nope. I'm annoyingly persistent like that."

Buffy chuckled. "That's one way of putting it." She pushed a wayward curl away from his face.

Spike reached up, feeling his hair. "I probably look like Shirley Temple."

"No, not at all. It's very sexy bed hair."

"If you say so," Spike said, leaning in and kissing her, all thoughts of the serious conversation they'd started to have fleeing from his mind.

Suddenly she broke away, avoiding Spike's attempt to pull her back. "So we were talking about marriage?"

"Were we?" Spike replied, wrinkling his brow.

"Well, sort of. We do need to figure out what we're going to do. I mean, we can't really have a relationship with you here and me in Rome. I mean, I guess we _could_, but I don't want to be that far away from you."

"Buffy, luv, I hate Los Angeles. You tell me you want us to move to a remote outpost in Siberia, and I'm there. I told you once I was your willing slave, and that hasn't changed. I'll go where you go."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah."

"Cause, well, I was sorta thinking about going to London."

"London?"

"Yeah. That's where the Slayers are based now. Giles has been prodding me for a while to take a more active role in what they're trying to set up there, but I wasn't ready for a while."

"And you think you're ready now?"

"Yeah, I do. Rome is nice and all, but I sorta miss being the Slayer. Not that I've given it up completely or anything, but I still haven't been as active as I used to be."

"This coming from the girl who used to lament about her lack of a normal life," Spike teased.

Buffy looked sheepish. "I know. I've just…grown up, I suppose. Realized who I really am."

"And that would be?"

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer of course," she said with a giggle. "I can be both. Buffy and the Slayer. And being the Slayer, well, that's _my_ normal. And even now that I've shared my power with all those other girls, it's still who I am. It's who I'll always be, and I think…I think I'm okay with that."

"And is there room in the life of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for an ex-vampire husband?"

"Is…is _that_ a proposal?"

"It is if you want it to be."

"I think I do." A smile slowly crept to Buffy's lips until it lit up her whole face. "Yeah, I do want it to be. I mean, if you want to…"

Spike grabbed her, kissing her hard. Buffy's eyes widened in surprise and the suddenness of his actions, but she was soon kissing back, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair. "You know," Buffy said, breaking away after a moment, "Technically, we've been engaged for four years."

"True," Spike said with a chuckle. "You never did give me my ring back. What sort of horrible fate did that thing meet anyway?"

"Oh… I, um…kept it in my jewelry box." The last part came out in a rush.

Spike arched an eyebrow. "You what?"

"I kept it in my jewelry box. And don't ask me why, 'cause I don't know. I just…wanted to keep it."

"I knew you wanted me even then," Spike said with a wide grin. "Couldn't resist my sinister attraction."

"Oh please," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "I resisted plenty, mister."

"Yeah, and a lot of bloody good it did you, too, stubborn woman."

"Hey, I learned my lesson!" She pressed herself closer against him. "Look at me now, all…willing…and…_wanting_."

"Mmm…Are you now? And what exactly are you wanting?"

Buffy leaned in and nipped his earlobe, making Spike shudder. "My fiancé."

_Oh, he liked the sound of that…_ "And where do you want him, pet?" he teased hotly.

"Inside me," Buffy replied, rolling them over so she was straddling his waist. "Think that can be arranged?"

"I do," Spike said, pulling her back into a kiss.

* * *

Spike rolled over on to his back and held her in his arms, basking with Buffy in the afterglow. It seemed almost impossible that this could be real, that they could've actually made it this far. He'd truly been given a new life—a new life with the woman he loved.

He felt Buffy's fingers tracing the outline of his abdomen, and he lifted her tiny hand into his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "Love you, kitten," he said, his voice rumbling through his chest and making Buffy shiver.

"Love you, too."

"And you were serious…about the whole wanting to marry me thing."

"Yes. There's no one else in this world I'd rather spend my life with."

"Good, cause I'd have to kill any bloke that tried to get you away from me, and I'm not supposed to be doing that anymore."

Buffy smirked. "I promise you you won't have to."

"And the Immortal?"

"Let me deal with that. It was fizzling anyway. It wasn't serious, Spike. I just needed comfort, and he wasn't asking me for anything permanent. You're who I was really wanting. Who I always want."

"Couldn't you have found someone less vile to seek comfort with?"

"Would you really want me to have a 'less vile' man waiting for me back in Italy?"

Spike frowned. "I hate that you have _anyone_ wanting for you back in Italy."

Buffy pressed a soft kiss against his chest. "But you're the one I'm going to marry, Spike. The Immortal is history."

Spike grinned. "I really like the sound of that."

"Which part?"

"Well, both, but I'm partial to the bit about you marrying me." Spike shifted a little, though he kept Buffy pulled tightly against him. "I never thought about it before, us actually getting hitched. I mean, other than that crazy spell of Willow's. But now…maybe it's the heartbeat talking, but I think it's exactly what I want."

Buffy craned her neck to look up at him. "You think? You better do more than think here…"

"I know," Spike amended, pulling Buffy up for a kiss.

* * *

Spike woke again later that afternoon to find Buffy moving around the room. "Goin' somewhere, pet?" he asked groggily.

Buffy looked up sharply at the sound of his voice. "I thought you were asleep."

"Was. Awake now. What's going on?"

"I'm going to see Angel."

Spike sat right up. "You're what? Buffy, no. If you remember from our last little visit, he's not exactly in a hospitable mood."

"I have to do this, Spike."

"So you were what, going to sneak out to see your ex while I was asleep?"

"I was going to leave you a note!" Buffy said in her defense.

"Fine. Just go then."

"You're angry with me."

"Well, yeah. You sneak out of bed after the night and morning we just had to go see _Angel_? What am I supposed to do, jump for joy?"

"It isn't like that! And I wasn't sneaking. I just knew you'd, well, do this."

"Why do you need to talk to him anyway? Wanna make sure he's really done with you before you get yourself hitched to me?"

"What? How can you ask me that? After everything we've been through together, everything we've shared? You honestly think I'd do that?"

Spike crossed his arms in front of him. "I don't know, Buffy. What are you doing?"

"I'm not…" Buffy closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. "I'm not going to see Angel because I still want to be with him, Spike. That's the furthest thing from what I want. But you know how he is as well as I do. Nothing's more appealing to him than the thing he can't have. The first time he showed up in Sunnydale after he went to LA—and actually had the decency to show his face around me—was when he found out about Riley. And then he got in a fight with him in an alley."

Spike perked up a little at that. "Yeah? Who won?"

"So not the point, Spike. And Angel, I think. Anyway, I need to make sure he knows he's not in my life anymore. That I don't need him in any way, shape, or form. I don't need him being my Champion from afar. I'm no longer his concern, and I'm no longer his object of courtly love to place on some pedestal. I have to know that that's clear with him, and that he isn't going to cause us any trouble."

"And that's all?"

Buffy sat down on the bed, reaching out to take Spike's hand. "You don't have to be insecure."

"I'm not bloody insecure."

"Please," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "I know you, honey, so no point in lying to me. But it's all right. You have me, and I'm not letting go of you ever again. I just have to do this, okay?"

"Be back soon?"

"Of course." Buffy leaned in and kissed him lightly. "Love you."

"Love you, too," Spike replied as Buffy got up from the bed. He watched her leave, and willed himself to be okay with it.

She was his now, not Angel's. He'd just have to hold on to that.

* * *

"Hi, Buffy," Cordelia said from behind the reception desk as soon as Buffy walked into the Hyperion's lobby. "Angel's upstairs. I'll get him for you."

"Thanks," Buffy said, frowning a little. Cordelia as a psychic Higher Being as opposed to an airheaded cheerleader was something she was going to have to get used to.

Angel came down a short time later, and Buffy noted that Cordelia had remained upstairs, to give them privacy, Buffy assumed. "Hey, Angel."

"Cordy said you wanted to talk to me?"

He seemed more subdued than he had been the day before, and Buffy hoped that he wouldn't make things difficult again. For once, she wanted something with this man to go smoothly. "Spike and I have decided to get married."

Buffy could tell from the look on his face that Angel hadn't been expecting anything near that. "Oh. When?"

"We haven't decided yet. Just that it's something we want to do. Probably fairly soon, I'd suspect. We're going to go to London. I want to go work with the other Slayers, get back into my Calling."

"William the Bloody in a building full of Slayers. I guess if you think that's a good idea…"

"Angel, don't. He's not the man he used to be. You know that."

"So why exactly are you telling me this?" Angel asked. "Just felt like rubbing it in?"

"No. I wanted to make sure that you understand that this is what I want. You told me once to find someone who could take me out into the light. I have that now. And I'm happy. Can you respect that?"

Angel was silent for several moments, and Buffy wondered if he was going to snap at her. "Just answer me one thing," he said finally.

"What?"

"If I had been the one that the Shanshu…"

"No."

"That quick of an answer, huh?"

"Yes. I love, Spike. I want to be with him. The fact that he has a heartbeat now is just an added bonus. If the Shanshu had been about you instead of him, then I'd be with a vampire right now."

Angel closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. "Then I can respect that."

"Good. I don't…I don't want you in my life right now, Angel. Maybe someday, I'll be able to see you as a friend, but with all the hurt and betrayal…I can't right now."

"I know."

"Then it's settled." Buffy turned, walking towards the door.

"Buffy?"

She stopped, but didn't turn around. "Yes?"

"You told me once you'd always be my girl."

"I did. But I'm a woman now." Buffy walked out then, into the daylight.

* * *

Only one more chapter left of this one. I wasn't real sure about this one, so reviews would be very much appreciated. Let me know if you liked where this one went.

I've had several questions about the Immortal. I didn't make him up. He's mentioned in the _Angel_ season five episode "The Girl in Question," as Buffy's new boyfriend who has a history with Angel and Spike as a sort of archenemies or something. They didn't go into a lot of detail on the show, which is why I didn't here either.

Also, I'm trying to make my website look a little less hideous, so if there's anyone with banner-making talent who would be willing to make banners for any of my fics, please email me. I'm quite challenged in that area, and I could use the help.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

_One Month Later…_

Buffy looked around the spacious apartment, a smile on her face. Even with the room filled with boxes and the furniture not set to be brought in until the following day, she felt at home.

Never before had a move felt so much like a true new beginning. Before, she'd always been running from something. When she moved to and from Sunnydale, she'd been trying to hide, to get away from the pain she'd felt in the last place she'd lived.

Coming to London hadn't been like that. She'd gone where she wanted to go, not because she had to, but because the time was right. She was starting a life with the man she loved. And while Buffy was far from naïve enough to think that that life would be nothing but smooth sailing, she wasn't worried about what the future had to hold. She was with Spike, and she felt in her heart that that would always be enough.

The door to the apartment swung open, Dawn marching in with Spike trailing behind her, his hands full of brown paper bags. "He insisted we get fish n chips, even though I told him he was being overly stereotypically British. He said that he hadn't had decent ones in like forever, and I was going to 'shut my bloody gob and eat them.'" Dawn said the last part in a mocking version of Spike's accent, earning her a dirty look from the blond man behind her as he kicked the door shut. "Personally," Dawn continued, "I don't see how exactly I can eat with my mouth shut, but Spike's always been weird."

"Gee, thanks ever so, nibblet."

"It's like living with a couple of children," Buffy said, a wry smile on her lips. "There's no table yet, but I put some newspapers down here, so we won't get the new floors all messed up."

"Be careful, Spike. Next thing you know, she'll be putting plastic over the couch. You know, when you have one," Dawn said.

"I will not!" Buffy protested as Spike set their dinner down where she'd indicated. "They're just…very nice floors."

Spike came up behind Buffy, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the top of her head. "It's all right. I think she's cute when she's all domestic."

"You say that now," Dawn said, wagging a finger. "Wait until she has you scrubbing the bathroom."

"Can't we make some of the lil' Slayers do that?" Spike asked. "Tell them it's part of their training?"

Buffy pulled away from him, smacking his chest lightly. "No, we can't." She paused for a moment. "Can we?"

"You're the boss around here, Buffy," Spike said. "I think you can make them do whatever you want."

"I so like the sound of that."

"You always did have a bit of a dominatrix streak in you," Spike teased, making Buffy blush.

"Ugh. Gag me, much?" Dawn said, sitting down. "So are you two going to get all kinky or are we going to eat?"

Spike started to speak, but Buffy shot him a look, and his mouth shut quickly. "We're eating," Buffy said, sitting across from Dawn. Spike joined them.

"You know what the coolest thing about all of this is?" Dawn said as she opened the bag with her food. "That I get my own apartment."

"It's right across the hall from ours," Buffy said. "And I have a key, so I can come in at any moment."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Geez, a little overprotective there, Buffy? I know I still have to behave myself. But it's still like…my own apartment. With my own kitchen and everything."

"You did make sure the smoke detector is hooked up, didn't you, honey?" Buffy said, looking over at Spike.

"First thing," Spike replied. "There's one in every room actually."

"You two are smothering me," Dawn muttered.

"Says the seventeen year old girl with her own apartment," Buffy replied.

Dawn grinned. "Okay, so I can put up with you two mother hens for that. And I totally won't even question why you suddenly decided I should live there instead of the other bedroom in this place. I just figured it's so you can have loud sex anyway."

"Dawn!" Buffy exclaimed.

"What? Like I couldn't hear you two in Italy?" Dawn teased, snickering at the way Buffy turned bright red.

"It's not nice to tease your sister like that," Spike said, although Dawn could see him fighting the smirk.

Dawn shrugged. "The way you two go at it, it probably won't be long before there's someone running around here calling me Aunt Dawnie," she said, turning back to her food and missing the significant glance between the two blonds across from her.

Buffy moved a little closer to Spike as they ate, loving the feel of him so close to her. She caught the glint of the engagement ring Spike had given her back in Italy to "make it official" and smiled. Her life was going almost scarily well. Even Dawn, who had seemed to be getting more and more depressed the longer they were in Italy had perked up since they'd come to London.

At another point in her life, she would've been afraid. Things were almost _too_ good, and in her experience, that meant that everything should soon collapse around her. But Buffy wasn't afraid.

She was happy.

* * *

"Having trouble sleeping, pet?" 

Buffy turned from the edge of the balcony, watching Spike as he came out to join her. He'd only slipped on a pair of jeans before coming out of the apartment, and Buffy's mouth watered at the sight. The knowledge that this gorgeous, sexy man was all hers was enough to make her brain want to melt. "No," she said in answer to his question. "Not really. I just wanted to come out for some fresh air. See the view."

Spike came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and Buffy settled into the embrace, the two of them silent for a while as they looked out onto London's skyline.

"It's strange," Spike said after a moment. "So much like how I remember it being when I was a boy, but not at the same time."

Buffy craned her neck to look up at him. "Are you glad to be home?"

"Home's with you, Buffy."

Buffy kissed him before turning her gaze back in front of her. She felt Spike's hand wander to the front of her robe, slipping inside and pressing against her belly. "When is she going to start moving?"

"I'm only three weeks along. It's going to be a little while," Buffy replied. "And what makes you think it's a girl?"

"Because she is a girl. A little girl with her mummy's hair." Spike ran his fingers through Buffy's hair, then turned her around, kissing her on the tip of her nose. "And her mother's adorable little nose, too."

"I hope she has her daddy's eyes," Buffy said. "Even though they'll make the boys start pounding down the door."

"Not if her daddy has anything to say about it," Spike replied, pulling Buffy a little closer to him.

"Gonna be the protective type?"

"And you're what, surprised?"

Buffy giggled. "Not at all. And just for the record, I think you're going to make a wonderful father."

"I still can't believe I'm going to be a father. I never thought… Well, I guess bein' dead for over a century sort of makes you rule out that idea."

"But you are happy about it, aren't you? I know it wasn't exactly _planned_, and it was sort of sudden, so…"

Spike silenced her with a kiss. "Buffy, the moment I found out you were pregnant was the happiest moment of my life. We're starting a family, pet. I can't even begin to tell you how much of a gift that is."

"I know, Spike. It's a gift to me, too."

"I love you."

"And I love you."

Buffy turned again, resting her head against his chest as they stared out over the place they could now call home, watching the sun rise.

* * *

Yeah, I know, the ending was a bit on the sappy side. So sue me. (Or don't, 'cause I'm really broke and stuff…) And the symbolism was a little heavy there, but if Joss can do it, so can I. insert evil laughter here 

Hope you enjoyed the fic. And don't be too sad to see it over, but there will be a sequel. If things go the way I plan, several, in fact. This fic is the beginning of a series of Post-Chosen fics that can (or will) be foundon my website. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed this fic, especially the people who were there every chapter. It's reviewers that keep the fics alive.


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